Call It A Gift
by Blackberry Ink
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. Ella plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga’s house. But first loves always die hard.
1. A Little Fall of Rain

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.

A/N: My first attempt at an Ella Enchanted story. Enjoy!

Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

Call it a Gift

By Blackberry Ink

Prologue: A Little Fall of Rain

* * *

I want to repair your desire  
And call it a gift  
That I stole from just wanting to live  
Now I see the vision through your eyes  
Your innocence no longer fuels surprise

Trying to outrun your fear  
Running to lose  
Heart on your sleeve and your sole in your shoes  
Take a left,  
A sharp left  
And another left, meet me on the corner  
And we'll start again.

- Badly Drawn Boy - _Once Around the Block_

_

* * *

_

"Marriage is supposed to be forever, but friendship can be forever, too," Char said to me, a hopeful expression on his face that made me want to melt. "Will you-"

I felt a slight tugging at my mask, and I jumped slightly, darting quickly away. I turned to see Hattie in front of me, arm in arm with a duke.

"I'm afraid this has gone on too long," she said, dropping her partner's arm and stalking over to Char's side and putting a protective arm around his waist. Char looked startled and stepped politely away from her.

"Forgive me, my lady," he said with a slight bow. "I don't believe we've met."

Hattie's eyes widened, and I stifled a laugh at her startled face.

"Prince Charmont, I cannot permit you to stay in this imposter's company any longer. She is clearly plotting for the downfall of Kyrria!"

Char and I both laughed, and he put my arm in his again. I smiled at the touch and nearly melted at the sight of his grin.

"I assure you, Lela would do no such thing," Char guaranteed her.

"Yes, you must have mistaken me with someone else, Lady Hattie," I said. "If you'll excuse us..."

Flustered, Hattie pursued us as we turned to continue our walk. "Charmont-" She latched her arm onto the one that wasn't already entwined with mine.

"Please, Lady Hattie," Char said, and I noted irritation in his voice. "Leave us." He tugged my arm gently and began to walk away.

"Say you'll dance with me, Charmont," Hattie called to him.

Char pretended not to hear her. I looked sideways at him, swallowing as I admired his profile, the curve of his nose and the shape of his lips and the way his eyes seemed happy when he looked at me. I noted that they didn't seem to have the same light they had the last time I'd been with him and wasn't sure whether to be happy that I was the only one that could make him look like that or upset that I'd never seem him look at me like that again.

"As I was saying," he continued. "I have no plan to marry. The entire notion of marriage is overrated."

I offered a small smile and hoped he couldn't spot the sadness in it. "What made you think that?"

He looked away and his eyes hardened slightly. I cursed myself for making him upset.

"I'm sorry,' I said. "I didn't mean to pry."

"No, it's alright," he said. "I think on that topic often anyway."

He thought about me! I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

"Not to be rude, but I'd rather not talk about it," he said.

"Oh, you're not being rude. I shouldn't have brought it up."

He was silent for a minute, looking away, and I used the time to drink in his features and memorize the way he looked right now.

"You're staying past midnight tonight, yes?"

"Yes," I agreed. A few more hours with him would be worth the long walk home. "I wouldn't want to miss your singing."

He chuckled. "I'm sure you're the only one who feels that way."

I laughed along with him. He began to talk again, and I lost myself in his voice. I willed the tears not to come again as we wiled away what felt like the last night of my life.

* * *

"I had a wonderful time," I said as I stood on the front steps of the castle. Char brought my hand to his mouth and I closed my eyes to feel his lips. I forced a smile as he rose to look at me again and hoped he couldn't see the tear that coursed down my cheek.

"So did I," he said. "Thank you for making these past three nights bearable." He laughed, making the tears come faster. I'd never hear him laugh again. "Where's your carriage? I'll escort you to it."

I bit my lip and feigned looking around. "Oh, don't worry. I'll walk myself."

"No, I insist," he persisted.

I smiled. I wanted him to stay with me as long as possible, but what would he do when he found I had no carriage?

"Let's just say goodbye here," I said. "It will make it easier."

"We'll see each other again," he said earnestly.

"I suppose," I said quietly. "But please, let's say our goodbye's now."

"Well, if that's what you'd like." Our eyes met and I could barely stand this close to him for fear that I'd wrap my arms around him. "I'll see you soon, Lela. I'll be sure to make sure I stop in Bast whenever I can."

I couldn't hide the tears. "I look forward to seeing you there."

"Don't cry," he murmured. I stopped and he took my hands in his. I resisted the temptation to see if the rope burns he'd gotten had scarred or if they'd healed. Even harder was to resist the temptation to kiss each of his fingers and shout that it was Ella, _his _Ella, and yes, _yes_, I loved him.

"Goodbye," I said as he dropped my hands.

"You must come see me whenever you come back to the castle," he said.

"I will," was all I could say.

He waved and I walked backwards as far as I could without it seeming strange. I nearly tripped, and he laughed. I cried as I left, and his sweet, joyful laughter followed my all the way home.

I was such a fool to love him.

It began to rain.

* * *

A/N: No, not all chapters will be that short. This is just a prologue, remember? Drop me a review to let me know if I should continue this story.

Edit: I finally uploaded the somewhat-fixed version of this chapter. I got tired of getting e-mails pointing out (sometimes quite rudely) the POV errors I had here. I knew about them, just never got around to posting the correct chapter. As many guessed, I did start writing this in third person but went back to change it to first – apparently I missed fixing five or six pronouns. It was my fault that I got over a dozen messages, and I thank everyone who was kind in letting me know.

I appreciate everyone pointing out errors. My only stipulation is this: be nice about it. I make mistakes – I'm only human. Now I have a new beta to assist in catching my errors, but for the first few chapters there were some complications with the person who used to edit for me and I did it myself. I'm not exactly that great at it.

So, er, the main point is this: if you're going to review, by constructive. I absolutely love getting reviews and I try to respond to all of them, but it really puts a damper on my day to get an email from someone telling me what a horrible person I am because I missed two commas somewhere in chapter three.

Thanks again to everyone who's reading and reviewing. You guys keep me writing. :)


	2. Can't Turn It Around

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: Thanks for the response to the first chapter! I love reading positive feedback.  
  
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.  
  
~~~~~  
  
~ Call it a Gift  
  
~ By Blackberry Ink  
  
~ Chapter One: Can't Turn It Around  
  
~~~~~  
  
So we burned all our uniforms  
And let nature take its course again  
And the big ones just eat all the little ones  
That sent us back to the drawing board.  
  
In our darkest hours  
We have all asked for some  
Angel to come  
Sprinkle his dust all around  
But all our crying voices they can't turn it around  
And you've had some crazy conversations of your own.  
  
- The Shins – So Says I  
  
~~~~~  
  
A week later and it was no better. I was a wreck, and there was nothing I could do about it.  
  
I cried while I swept, I cried while I scrubbed, I cried while I dried dishes, I cried while I mixed white cake for Olive. Mandy did her best to console me. She came in every night and hugged me and I held on to her for dear life, because she was my only anchor now. She was the only person left in the world that I had to hold on to.  
  
Sometimes I longed for Areida, sometimes I longed for my mother, sometimes I even longed for my father, because he would relieve me of work. But mostly I longed for Char.  
  
I wondered if he thought of me as much as I thought of him. Even if he did I knew that any thoughts of me would soon fade. He would meet a pretty girl and fall in love with her and give up his idea not to marry. He would forget about me. I was nothing to him anymore. He thought I had betrayed him.  
  
At night, or whenever I had a free moment, I would run to my room and open my magic book, going through every page for anything to do with him. Once I was lucky, and I found a short note to one of his knights, telling the knight that he would ride out to meet him on the road shortly. I spent the rest of the night tracing his letters until I fell asleep.  
  
He was the last thing I thought of before I went to sleep, and I dreamt of him every night. I would wake up content; happy in my dream- world where we were happy together and completely satisfied. Then I would hear the bird's chirping outside, or a harsh knock at the door from Olive, asking me to talk to her, and I would tear up at the thought of living without him.  
  
I wondered if I would ever get used to this.  
  
"All wounds heal in time, Lady," Mandy said, rubbing my back gently.  
  
"Not this one," I murmured, sitting still in her arms.  
  
"I know it seems that way, now, Lady, but time will make it better."  
  
"Don't call me Lady," I muttered distractedly. I disliked how she'd taken to calling me her old name for my mother.  
  
Olive was now a regular visitor to the kitchens. I'd begun to keep a jog of water by my side at all times, because she was prone to coming in at any moment and I'd need it for my dry throat. I began to dread three words.  
  
"Talk to me."  
  
"What would you like me to talk about?"  
  
"Anything. Tell me how pretty I am."  
  
"You're as pretty as fresh excrements from a cow after being out in the winter air for an hour," I said. I doubted she knew what 'excrements' meant, so I felt it a safe word to use. I was proven right when she smirked gleefully at me.  
  
"Tell me how much money I have."  
  
"Much more than I do."  
  
"Tell me how much money I'm going to have when I'm Hattie's age."  
  
"Thousands of gold KJs. More than I could ever dream of."  
  
"Tell me how many times I danced with the Prince."  
  
I faltered. I hadn't wept all day, and I'd hoped I'd be able to abstain from doing so today. But the curse was making my stomach churn, so I answered.  
  
"Seven," I said in a choked voice. "Seven times in three nights."  
  
She smiled beatifically.  
  
"Tighter, Ella," Hattie told me as I pulled at the laces of her corset. "I expect Charmont will be coming to call on me any day now. It was clear that I charmed him at the ball."  
  
"Did you?" I said brusquely, pulling the corset as tight as possible. I wondered if I could suffocate her.  
  
"Yes, but it was expected. I told you from the first night that he was clearly taken with me."  
  
"Of course," I said, voice a monotone. "Anyone would be taken by your radiating beauty."  
  
"Well, Charmont was a little more difficult to woo than most men," she said. No one called him Charmont. She didn't know him. She didn't love him. He didn't love her. He loved me.  
  
Or, at least he used to.  
  
I excused myself as quickly as I could and promptly burst into tears upon exiting Hattie's room.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Another few weeks went by in this vein. The days blended into each other until my memory could barely tell them apart. Soon, though, the crying lessened. The physical signs of my grief began to minimize, but the pain I felt was still there. I doubted it would ever leave.  
  
My father came back from his trading trip, laden with gifts. Upon his arrival, he took Dame Olga in his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips. I turned away at the disgusting sight. They whispered sweet nothings to each other all during dinner until even Olive looked as revolted as I. Father looked relieved to be in her presence again, but I doubted if he would act that was if not for the curse Lucinda had placed upon him.  
  
Dame Olga had given me one of my old diner dresses to wear in his company, presumably to keep him from knowing about my servitude. I had evaded her and Hattie all day to keep her from issuing a command that wouldn't allow me to talk to Father, and it wasn't until late that evening that I was able to speak with him.  
  
"Hello, daughter," he said to me. He beckoned me to him and gave me a kiss on the cheek, purely for ceremonial purposes.  
  
"Hello, Father," I returned, sitting in a chair opposite him.  
  
He sat forward in his seat. "I assume you got my letter."  
  
I nodded. "I admit I was disappointed."  
  
"You know I could not return home. Gaining back the money I lost is more important than your discomfort. You know that, Eleanor."  
  
"My name is Ella," I reminded him.  
  
"Ella is a child's name. You are a young woman now," he said.  
  
"But I am not treated as such. I was made to clean my own fireplace at a guest dinner and scrub the floor until my hands and knees bled, Father. I will not be made a servant in my own home. Will you not do something to stop that?"  
  
"I can't be all that bad. Olga, my love, would not do that do a daughter."  
  
I raised my eyebrows. "Wouldn't she?"  
  
Father chucked. "She might. But always know that you will be relieved of the duties she gives you when I come home."  
  
When you come home? I thought. You are not home often enough for if to be much relief to me. I laughed to myself. How strange, the day when I my father's attendance at home was a benefit for me.  
  
"I leave again in two days. I trust you will find a way to get through the days while I am gone. Perhaps I will even find a good suitor for you."  
  
A suitor. Perhaps my earlier suspicions would become reality. Perhaps I would become the girl I had described myself as in my letter to Char.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Ella, pass me that bowl," Mandy ordered. I was helping her in the kitchen to cook tonight's dinner. It was his last meal here, for a while at least, and Dame Olga had insisted it be "extra special" and her demand gave be no choice but to comply. I gave Mandy the bowl without complaint, but only because I wasn't in the mood for my usual game.  
  
"Something wrong, sweet?" She handed me the bowl. "Stir."  
  
I picked up a spoon and stirred as asked. "Not besides the obvious," I said quietly, not looking at her.  
  
Mandy, a reassuring smile on her face, came next to me and put a motherly arm around my waist. "Oh, Lady," she murmured.  
  
For some reason, just these two words comforted me. We stood like that for a while, cooking my Father's dinner and not saying a word. I was glad for her presence.  
  
I left the kitchen three quarters of an hour before it was to be served so that I could get ready. I put on my plainest dinner gown (An old one of mine, on loan from Dame Olga) quickly and brushed out my hair, tying it half up with some ribbon. Then I sat on my bed and took out my magic book.  
  
I skipped quickly through several illustrations of lands in Frell, fairy tales, and a map of Kyrria. They were of no importance to me. My face brightened considerably when I spotted a familiar face about halfway through the book. It was Char, and he looked to be in his bedroom in the castle. I couldn't resist bringing the picture to my lips and kissing his likeness, silly as I felt. I spent a moment gazing at him, then looked to the back adjacent his picture and found a letter.  
  
Dear Bertram,  
  
My father has consented to allowing me to join you. My  
clothes are being packed as I write, and I calculate you  
and the rest of the men to be about two days' hard riding  
away from Frell, so I expect that I will meet you in three.  
I ride with Stephan. While awaiting my arrival, have the  
company hunt enough provisions to as long as possible; I  
anticipate our trip will take longer than originally  
estimated.  
  
He wrote several lines more, all business. I'd never heard him talk this way before, but it reminded of me something Sir Stephan had said on our journey to the giants' months ago.  
  
"In the weeks he's spent with us he's never laughed as much as he did in the hour with you. He's too serious for someone that young."  
  
I smiled, remembering the times where I had caused his joy rather than his pain. Then I remembered that this pain was small compared to the pain he would have felt had I told him I loved him. My smile waned.  
  
"Dinner's served!" I heard the cry from down at the beginning of the servant's hall. With one last look at Char's picture, I whispered to spine of my book to save it, then stowed it away in my trunk again and rushed out to the dining room. Father would not be please I was late.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Oh, my love!" Dame Olga's wrenching sobs echoed in my ears the following morning. It was too early for this.  
  
"Don't worry, my heart," my father said. "I will return as soon as I can. And I will have even more money."  
  
"Oh, Sir P, I don't care about the money-" She paused, reconsidering her statement. She sniffed, smoothed out her dress. "You must hurry back."  
  
"Of course I will. And I will miss you terribly."  
  
"And I you."  
  
It was more revolting than ever.  
  
"Quite the couple, aren't they?" Nancy, a friendly maid, whispered to me. I chuckled as my father came over to me.  
  
"Eleanor," he said, kissing my cheek again. I hoped that wasn't going to turn into a habit. "I will miss you as well."  
  
"That was almost convincing," I said sweetly.  
  
He pretended not to hear. "I will return with a good, rich suitor for you. You will be happy."  
  
"I'm sure of it."  
  
"I trust you will last through whatever treatment you receive in this household. It won't last for long."  
  
"Thank you," I said. "I'll hold you to that."  
  
He forced a smile. "Good bye, daughter."  
  
He got into his carriage, and as it pulled out, Dame Olga was the only one waving him off.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Thanks to Lady Bee, babyjayy, CattyFr, Turwen, blue-la-shoo, anonymous, and Attic for reviewing the prologue. It means a lot to me. :)  
  
blue-la-shoo: I'm so glad you like Char! He's probably my favorite character to write.  
  
CattyFr: Thanks again for catching my type-o.  
  
Next chapter: Hopefully will be slightly longer. Includes three letters, two visitors, and one unexpected arrival. I'll try to get it out by this weekend. 


	3. First Things First

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: More reviews! You guys rock! Sorry if the last chapter was a little boring, I had to throw in the necessary foreshadowing and plot stuff. Look forward to more events in this one.  
  
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.  
  
~~~~~  
  
~ Call it a Gift  
  
~ By Blackberry Ink  
  
~ Chapter Two: First Things First  
  
~~~~~  
  
I need a home, but my boots keep goin'  
  
Healing and peace that a fire could provide.  
  
A place to unburden my brain of its sorrow;  
  
First things first when you get to the fire.  
  
A rich man eats when he wishes; a poor man whenever he can.  
  
- Peter, Paul, and Mary – Rich Man Poor Man  
  
~~~~~  
  
Mandy was wonderful to talk to, but many times I felt that the thing I loved talking to most was Apple. While it was soothing to hear from Mandy that everything would be alright, sometimes that only made it worse. I felt like the time when I would be alright was too far away, and I'd despair that it would never come. But with Apple, I could talk and talk and never be interrupted and never be admonished and I'd always receive that same gaze, almost loving, but I wondered if Apple was even capable to comprehend love. Centaurs were said to have one of the smallest brains of any beast in the world.  
  
The only negative side to it was that every glance at Apple would make me remember a time when Char cared enough about me to go out of his way to catch me a Centaur, just to make me happy. I recalled Char's simple joy at making me smile, or the way his face lit up when I made him laugh, and I'd feel my eyes watering again. But I had given up crying over him. I felt I had cried away all of my tears already, anyway.  
  
Still, it didn't matter if being with Apple reminded me of Char. I thought of him all the time regardless of whether I'd seen my centaur that or not. But it had been a month, to the day, since I'd last seen him and I had become determined not to show the corporeal signs of my unhappiness. I had realized that I'd have to come to terms with the fact that I couldn't be with Char sooner or later, and it might as well be sooner.  
  
"Ella, dear," Mandy said to me later. "Would you mind running down to the market for me? I need some more asparagus for dinner."  
  
I almost said no, but figured it was urgent because she had immediately requested I do it instead of waiting to play our usual game. So, nodding, I pulled a shawl around me to shield me from the cool September air and, basket in tow, left the manor to make the mile or so trek into town.  
  
I had only been to the market alone a handful of times, and only in the recent past. If Father had been home he would have never consented to letting me go, because he said that there were too many people of the wrong sort that loitered around there. After all, it was where Father spent most of his life.  
  
Still, I had never had any problems during my brief visits here. The people Mandy bought most of her food knew me and I was confident they wouldn't try to trick me out of anything. Besides, I had always been good at haggling.  
  
The walk to the market took me fifteen minutes and it took another fifteen to find a stand I knew as reliable and purchase enough asparagus for Mandy at a good price. I ended up with more extra coins than I had expected, and I slipped them into my pocket to give back to Mandy when I returned back to the manor.  
  
I covered the basket I was carrying with a small napkin to shelter the food and headed out of the market. I was very near to the road leading directly to the manor when I felt the handle of the basket tug into my arm. I turned to see a boy, much younger than me, and he had asparagus in his hands. He chanced one look at me and ran. The nerve! I took off after him.  
  
I had never been a runner, and my shoes only made it harder. I let them fall off my feet, thinking I'd come back for them later. Picking up speed, I chased the boy down a side street until I found him, cowering before a brick wall that appeared to have stopped and cornered him. I thanked the wall, because I knew that I wouldn't have been able to catch him otherwise.  
  
"I-I'm sorry," he said, voice quivering and his face braced for me to slap him. He handed me the asparagus. I counted how much I had and saw that he had, indeed, given all he stole back to me.  
  
I took a good look at him, and realized that he could be no older than eight or nine. I mourned the fact that he had to resort to theft at such a young age. A glance at his bone-thin frame told me there was little else he could do. I wondered when the last time he'd had a full meal was.  
  
"What's your name?" I asked.  
  
"Tristan," he managed.  
  
"Where are your parents?" I intended to bring him back to them.  
  
"Dead," he said simply, with the air of one who had gotten used to the fact and tired of explaining it.  
  
"Oh," I said softly. "I'm sorry."  
  
He shrugged, and his lessened fear was visible. He cast me a wary look.  
  
"Aren't you going to yell at me?"  
  
"No," I said. I didn't have the heart to.  
  
"Oh." He sounded relieved. "Well, can I go, then?"  
  
"I suppose." I paused, thinking. "But, Tristan?"  
  
"What?" he said, the wary voice returned.  
  
"Would you like to have dinner at my house? You can eat some of this asparagus."  
  
His eyes lit up, and he lost the early aging he'd gotten and looked more like the child he was.  
  
"Yeah," he said. "I guess I would."  
  
"Good," I said, hoping no one wound mind me brining home a little beggar boy for a meal. "Come with me, then. We'll get you cleaned up and presentable for dinner."  
  
He fell into step behind me, and I felt an extraordinary sense of well being. I had never been very good with children, but this boy seemed to have taken to me. Somewhat.  
  
We had left the side street when I heard someone clear their throat loudly. I turned to look, and saw a young man leaning cockily against the wall of a brick building. Light brown hair fell in his face and he pushed it out of the way, revealing emerald eyes.  
  
"Excuse me," he said, and I noticed that he was holding my shoes. I had forgotten I was in only stockings. "I think you lost these."  
  
He held them out to me, and I reached out to take them. But he grabbed them back before I could grasp them.  
  
"Those are mine," I said. "Thank you for finding them, but I'd like them back, if you-"  
  
He dangled the shoes in front of me, and I resisted the urge to make a grab for them, because I'd only make a fool of myself when he pulled them away again. Instead, I narrowed my eyes and tried to make myself as tall as possible.  
  
"Why should I give them back?" he said, his voice smooth and cunning. I wanted to hit him, stranger or not.  
  
"They're my shoes," I said. "I can't walk home without them."  
  
"You seemed to be running fine without them. They seem like such a hassle."  
  
I balled my fists in anger and prayed he wouldn't issue me any commands. I doubted they would be friendly.  
  
"I thank you for finding my shoes," I said, trying to remember the courtesy rules I had been taught at finishing school. It seemed a lifetime ago. "But I must insist that you return them to me."  
  
He laughed. It made me even angrier that he had the impudence to laugh at me. I had always hated the fact that anyone and everyone held power over me, though they might not know it, and I didn't enjoy the extra power he had from holding my possession over me. And I didn't enjoy the fact that he was laughing about it.  
  
"You must insist I return them to you?" he said, his laughter changed to a smile.  
  
"Yes," I said, aware he was making fun of me.  
  
"Well," he said, somehow twirling my left shoe on his pointer finger. "Don't I get some sort of...payment?"  
  
Payment? I thought. "What type of payment?" I asked, before I could stop myself and consider just the sort of payment a scoundrel like him would want.  
  
"Dinner," he said, relieving me of that fear. "You invited this boy to dinner, so I figure you could find room for one more."  
  
I thought. Inviting the little boy was one thing, but this strange young man was another. He'd probably try to rob everything in the house. Not that it mattered, since it all belonged to Dame Olga, Hattie, and Olive. And what did I care how they fared? Besides, I wanted my shoes back. He was right when he said I could walk back without them, and I had another pair that I liked better. But it was the principle of the thing.  
  
"Fine, then," I said. He grinned, and I noted that his grin changed from one of cunning to one of genuine happiness. He hid it quickly. He handed me the shoes, and I took them and slipped them on my small feet.  
  
I was sure we presented a strange group, me walking next to a young man who was probably a thief and who hadn't bathed in what looked like years and having a small boy who was definitely a thief and definitely hadn't bathed in his entirely life. And, for some reason, I trusted the boy more. At least I knew what he was.  
  
"So," the young man said conversationally. "Do you always reward thieves?"  
  
I frowned at him. He was already getting on my nerves, and I had barely met him.  
  
"Don't be stupid," I said, before I could stop myself from being rude. He only laughed.  
  
"Are you planning on telling me your name?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.  
  
"I don't see why I'm obliged to," I retorted. I didn't know why, but it felt good to be openly discourteous to someone. I supposed I'd been holding it in for a while.  
  
He laughed again. He laughed a lot, I noticed. Like Char. When he had loved me.  
  
"I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours," he said.  
  
I shook my head. "You first."  
  
He raised his eyebrows. "What, you don't trust me?"  
  
"No," I said simply.  
  
"Gareth," he said.  
  
"And where are you from?"  
  
He shrugged. "Frell, for now. I was born in Bast and have been traveling since I was about that boy's age."  
  
What crimes have you committed? I almost asked.  
  
"I'm Ella of Frell," I said. "Daughter of Sir Peter of Frell."  
  
He gave me a mock-amazed look and gave me a deep bow. He grabbed my hand and kissed it in courtly fashion. I tried to frown, but ended up somewhere in between a frown and a laugh. I wasn't quite sure why I didn't want to give him the pleasure of making me laugh.  
  
"So you're practically a lady," he said. "What were you doing alone in market?"  
  
"That's none of your business," I said. I wasn't about to tell a near-stranger about my situation.  
  
"Too right," he said, backing down. For once.  
  
"Here we are," I said as we came around the turn and the manor came into view. I could hear Tristan gasp behind me. Gareth gave me an impressed grin.  
  
"Nice house," he said. "A bit small, but that's to be expected. Sir Peter not really much of a merchant, is he? At least that's what I hear."  
  
I frowned at him for good measure. But he was right.  
  
~~~~~  
  
I made Gareth and Tristan wait just outside of the back door while I went in and explained the situation to Mandy.  
  
"You're just like your mother," was all she said.  
  
I gave her the extra coins and the asparagus while she threw some extra food into the pot she had been cooking in.  
  
"How much will they eat?" she asked.  
  
"A lot," I said simply.  
  
"Oh, that reminds me," Mandy said. "Just go over to the counter over there, love. You got a letter."  
  
Surprised, I walked over to where she indicated and picked up the letter. It wasn't in my father's hand, and I hadn't expected it to be. He'd only left a week ago. Yet the handwriting looked familiar. I opened the letter.  
  
Dear Ella,  
  
(If this isn't Ella, then I apologize for my mistake.  
If there is any way you could send this along to an Ella  
of Frell, I would be most indebted to you.)  
When Hattie and Olive had left, they mentioned that  
you were at home. I've missed you terribly since you left.  
You know how everyone at finishing school despised me – I  
haven't been able to find a friend as good as you.  
  
A friend as good as me? Areida? How had she managed to find me? I read further.  
  
I left finishing school shortly after you did, and now I'm  
working in my Father's Inn. I must admit it is boring at  
times, but I enjoy it. We've had a few very special  
guests. You wouldn't believe me if I told you – but Prince  
Charmont of Kyrria came to eat here! I spoke of you with  
him, in fact. He told me you were rich and married. Is it  
true? I shan't believe it until you tell me yourself.  
  
She went on to tell me how she's been since we'd last seen each other and so on, even writing in Ayorthian for a bit. I savored every word, and wished she wrote more than just the back and front of one parchment. She signed it 'Always your friend, Areida.'  
  
I knew, of course, from my magic book that Areida had seen Char. I pictured him, handsome as usual, smiling and laughing with his knights. But I also remembered the book telling me that he had become silent and upset after speaking of me with Areida. I hated myself for causing him pain. I longed to run to him and throw my arms around his neck and apologize to him until I ran out of words and kiss him until I ran out of breath and –  
  
No. I mustn't think those things. It would only make me cry again.  
  
I closed up Areida's letter and resealed it as best I could. Hattie's order wouldn't allow me to be friends with her. She could be friends with me until she died, but the curse would keep me from ever seeing her again. I wanted to scream because of the unfairness of it all. I wanted to strangle Lucinda for giving up big magic a moment too soon.  
  
"Hello?" came Gareth's anxious voice as he rapped on the door. "You going to let us in or not?"  
  
Mandy chuckled. "Nice guests you've got, there."  
  
I groaned. I wished Gareth hadn't found my shoes. He was bound to make an even bigger mess of things.  
  
"Well, the little boy is nice," I said weakly, going to the door and determinedly not thinking of Areida and Char. I opened the door and let my guests in.  
  
"Mandy," I said as she turned to see them. "This is Tristan. Tristan, meet Mandy."  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Tristan," Mandy said amicably. He cowered and went over to sit by the fire, huddling by it's warmth. I marveled at how a boy could do something as brash as theft and still look so shy and timid.  
  
I considered not introducing Gareth, but I knew Mandy would admonish me for it later, despite how uncouth he obviously was. He looked at me expectantly while I paused.  
  
"And this is Gareth," I finally said. "Gareth, this is Mandy."  
  
I expected him to say something rude, but instead he gave Mandy a bow (though not as overconfident as his bow to me had been), a kiss on the knuckles, and a winning smile. I scowled at him while Mandy chuckled.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Gareth," she said as the laughter died down.  
  
"The pleasure's mine, I'm sure," Gareth said. I scowled at him. I felt had been doing that a lot since I'd met him. He touched a nerve.  
  
Mandy and Gareth made small talk for a moment while Mandy and I cooked.  
  
"Go show Gareth and Tristan where they can clean up, love," Mandy ordered gently.  
  
"Do I have to?" I mumbled to her so Gareth wouldn't hear.  
  
"Oh, Lady," Mandy said. But the curse was already pulling at me to obey, so I gestured for the two of them to follow me. Tristan came reluctantly from the fire and the two of them followed. When we reached a wider hallway, Gareth came to walk next to me.  
  
"I didn't know you were a cook's helper," he said.  
  
"You don't know me at all," I replied.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"You don't," I said. "We only just met. You're awfully prying for a guest."  
  
He grinned. Why did he keep doing that?  
  
"You find me irritating, don't you," Gareth said. He didn't say it like a question, but I felt compelled to answer.  
  
"Yes. Extremely."  
  
"Ah. Well, at least you're frank."  
  
I ignored any other attempts at conversation from him and led them just outside on the other end of the house to where we had an area for them to clean.  
  
"I'm going back to the kitchen to help with dinner," I said. "I trust you can find your way back. Ask someone who isn't wearing jewelry of any sort on their being and they'll be sure to direct you if you can't find you way."  
  
I didn't wait for Gareth to make a reply and left to go back to the kitchens.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Nancy came into the kitchen just after Mandy and I had finished with dinner. We filled up three plates with the first course and gave them to her. She shook her head.  
  
"I need one more," she said. "The Lady Hattie has a guest."  
  
"Does she?" Mandy asked, interested, as she scooped more food onto the plates.  
  
"Who?" I asked.  
  
"An old man," Nancy said. "I can't remember his name. If you come with me, you can see him."  
  
I took the extra plate and followed Nancy into the dining room. I set it down in front of the guest. I felt his hand brush my arm and I thought he tried to grab my hand. I stepped back and looked at him. I cringed as I recognized him.  
  
It was Edmund, Earl of Wolleck. The old Duke Father had tried to betroth me to upon my return from finishing school. I hurried away.  
  
"Eleanor?" he said in wonderment. "Stop."  
  
I stopped.  
  
"Is that you, Eleanor?"  
  
"No," I said, hoping Dame Olga or her daughters wouldn't betray me. At least he hadn't ordered me to tell him my name, or I would have to.  
  
"I apologize," he said roughly, turning back to his meal. I noted Hattie looking coquettishly at him as I left. Repulsive. I chuckled.  
  
"Do you know him?" Nancy asked as we left the dining room together.  
  
"Never seen him in my life," I lied. "Wonder who he thought I was."  
  
~~~~~  
  
There was a table that Mandy usually set up in the kitchen for us to eat dinner at. Sometimes Nancy joined us, but usually it was just the two of us. Tonight, with four people, we were very squished. Gareth valiantly volunteered to stand as he ate. Mandy thanked him, and he brought his food over to rest it on the counter.  
  
"Ella tells me you found her shoes for her," Mandy said, trying to make polite conversation where Ella wouldn't.  
  
He nodded as he swallowed a bite of food. "They had fallen off. Lucky I saw when they did and followed her to give them back."  
  
Followed me to get a meal, I thought. You didn't return them to be kind.  
  
"It's a good thing I found them and not some murderer off the streets," Gareth said.  
  
Murderer. I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps he had some sort of grudge against my family and had come to poison the food and kill me. I put down my knife.  
  
"Yes," I said, sarcasm coating my tone. Mandy gave me a sharp look, but I didn't stop. "Good thing it was you."  
  
Gareth had to have noted my manner, but he continued as if I had been sincere.  
  
"Had I not been watching, I never would have been able to meet the wonderful people here. And I wouldn't have tasted this excellent food."  
  
Honestly. He was telling complete lies. I looked to Mandy, expecting her to have a look similar to mine, but instead she shook her head and smiled at his flattery.  
  
Could no one see through him but me?  
  
As dinner progressed, Gareth told us a story about how a man had come after he and his sister, thinking they had stolen money from him. (Gareth assured us that he hadn't. I wasn't so easily swayed.)  
  
"But my sister hadn't known I'd hidden it in the furnace," he said, and I saw a smile start. "So she came in, and lit a fire!"  
  
I laughed out loud with Mandy and Tristan, but covered it quickly. I saw Gareth catch my eye and wink. I crossed my arms and frowned at him. He looked pleased.  
  
Once, I found myself thinking that it was the most enjoyable time I'd had since I'd last seen Char. I stomped on the thought quickly, because it wasn't. Gareth was an irritating liar. Char was perfect. I'd rather spend one day with Char before dying than live as long as I wished with Gareth.  
  
I invited Tristan to remain here, in the spare servant's bedroom. I tucked him in and he fell asleep quickly. I made Gareth leave. I told him he had overstayed his welcome. I was tired of him, and would be happy if I never had to see him again.  
  
I went upstairs to Hattie's room as she ordered me to nearly every night.  
  
"I suppose I never showed you this letter I received," she said, flashing a letter before me. I caught a glimpse of fancy handwriting and an intricate seal, but she wouldn't let me read it.  
  
"It's from the Earl. Your father knows him apparently. Earl Edmund and I had met once before. He wrote to me after that, and told me-" She consulted the letter. "He told me I had stayed in his mind. Don't you wish you had someone who cared about you, Ella?"  
  
"Yes, of course," I said absently. But I did have someone who cared about me. I had Mandy. And Areida, even though I wasn't allowed to care about her. That was enough. I was sure I could live without any more. I could live without Char.  
  
Couldn't I?  
  
"I have a feeling Earl Edmund plans to marry me. He's very rich."  
  
"And handsome," I added with sarcasm. She never noticed my sarcasm.  
  
"I suppose," Hattie said considering. "If you like bald men old enough to be your grandfather. But he will die soon, leaving me with more money. Unless, of course, Charmont proposes to me before then.  
  
I couldn't help but laugh. Char? Propose to Hattie? No, he had written off marriage. He had told me. Or, rather, he had told Lela.  
  
"What's so funny?" Hattie asked.  
  
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Nothing at all."  
  
After another twenty minutes of preparing Hattie for slumber, I left her chambers and walked to my own. As I slipped out of my day dress, I felt something in the pocket. I reached in and took out a piece of folded paper. I unfolded it and read.  
  
Ella –  
  
Meet me outside the gate of your manor at noon  
tomorrow. I'll be waiting.  
  
- Gareth  
  
I laughed hollowly. Never in a thousand years would I voluntarily see that man again. I folded the note back up and put it on the table, telling myself that I would remember to dispose of it tomorrow.  
  
As I reached into my desk I pulled out my magic book, turning through it for something to do with Char. I found on one of the first few pages an illustration of him riding his horse, presumably to meet up with his other knights. I sighed blissfully at seeing his face. It was a joy to see him, even if it was just a picture.  
  
After spending a few minutes (or a few hours, for all I could tell) gazing at him, I made myself put the book away, blow out the candle, and surrender myself to sleep.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Thanks to babyjayy, Star Fighter Heart, blue-la-shoo, Pointy Objects, jess131346, fantasyfan, angelwings6117, keepgoing, Evil CornBread, The Queen of the Pugs, and Rosina for reviewing. You reviewers are really, really awesome.  
  
angelwings6117: Yes, I like long chapters better as well. The first two chapters were originally one, but I thought it worked out better to split them and have a prologue. From now one, most chapters should be the length of this one, at the least.  
  
Star Fighter Heart: I didn't quite understand what you were trying to say. You wanted me to e-mail you chapter two? I need your e-mail to do that! If fanfiction.net isn't working for you to read it, just wait a little while and refresh and you should be able to read.  
  
Rosina: I'd like to add in Char's thoughts, but I can't do that telling the story from Ella's first person point of view. I do expect to have some entries in Char's diary in the magic book, though, to give some kind of idea as to what he's going through.  
  
Next chapter: Is Ella actually beginning to get over Char, or is it all an act? What's going on with Earl Edmund and Hattie? And what about that irritating Gareth? I'll try to have it posted this weekend, possibly sooner. 


	4. Head Around The World

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: This is so much fun to write, and your lovely reviews are the major reason for that. I wasn't going to post this chapter yet, but I thought I might as well before I went on vacation so as to have some reviews in my inbox when I get home to make me happy.  
  
A ton of people addressed me on the part having to do with Gareth's letter and said it was an error. Don't worry, it wasn't a mistake. You'll just have to keep reading to see what happens, won't you?  
  
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.  
  
~~~~~  
  
~ Call it a Gift  
  
~ By Blackberry Ink  
  
~ Chapter Three: Head Around The World  
  
~~~~~  
  
Take your head around the world  
  
See what you get  
  
From your mind  
  
Write your soul down word for word  
  
See who's your friend  
  
Who is kind  
  
It's almost like a disease  
  
I know soon you will be  
  
Over the lies, you'll be strong  
  
You'll be rich in love and you will carry on  
  
But no - Oh no  
  
No you won't be mine.  
  
- Matchbox Twenty – You Won't Be Mine  
  
~~~~~  
  
I woke with the sun the next morning. Going outside to get some water from the well for Mandy I found that it was warmer than it had been yesterday. I could see the early light streaming through the trees and took my time going back inside.  
  
When I came back, Mandy had breakfast prepared for me and I ate and talked with her while she cooked.  
  
"That Gareth boy was nice," Mandy said warily as I took a sip of milk.  
  
"Revolting," I said, swallowing a bite.  
  
"The food?" she wondered.  
  
"How could anyone ever hate your cooking? I'm talking about Gareth."  
  
"Yes, I didn't understand that, love," Mandy said. "You're not normally like that around people."  
  
"He was rude to me first!" I couldn't help but exclaim.  
  
"Well, yesterday was one of the first times I've seen you at least a little bit happy since-"  
  
She cut herself off, and I was happy for it.  
  
"I don't want to talk about Char," I said. But I did. I was longing to talk about him, still. "I think about him enough."  
  
Mandy sighed over her vegetables. "I'm sorry for bringing it up, then, Lady."  
  
"I'm still in love with him," I plowed on. "I look for his picture or writing or anything remotely close to him in the book you gave me every time I get a chance. I think about him every second of the day. I can't get over him. I'll never get over him. I hate Lucinda for what she did to me. I hate Lucinda, I hate Father for trying to marry me off, I hate Dame Olga and her spawn for ordering away my life. I hate the curse for ruining everything good." And I hate myself for always wanting Char, I added in my head. I hate myself for still hurting over him.  
  
And I hated myself even more as I cried in Mandy's arms again. I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore. I'd promised myself I'd be back to normal.  
  
Easier said than done, I supposed after my crying fit was over.  
  
It about an hour until noon when I recalled the letter sitting on my desk. Telling Mandy I'd be back in a moment, I walked to my room and picked in up. I unfolded it and read it again, laughing. Who did this Gareth think he was? This note was probably to lure me out of protection and then rob me of whatever I had. I wasn't that foolish.  
  
Unable to stop myself, I reached into the desk and pulled out my magic book. I was disappointed to find nothing of Char in it. Reluctantly, I put it back where it belonged and went back to the kitchen and Mandy, carrying the note.  
  
Meet me outside the gate of your manor at noon tomorrow.  
  
The words echoed in my head. I looked back down at the paper.  
  
An order. How could I have been so foolish as to not realize it? I looked at the sun as it rose in the sky. It seemed to be about a quarter past eleven, perhaps more. Soon the curse would draw me to the gate and I'd have to meet Gareth. I cringed, then crumpled the note in my fist in anger. Gareth hadn't spoken an order to me all day yesterday, why did he have to write one? And why did I have to read it?  
  
"Hello?" came a small voice from around the corner. I looked ahead to see Tristan, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his shirt as it nearly slid off his shoulder.  
  
"Good morning, Tristan," I said, offering him as big a smile as I could manage.  
  
"'Morning," he mumbled.  
  
I gesticulated for him to follow me, and he did. He went straight to his old haunt by the fireplace, despite how warm it was today, and I gave him some of the lunch Mandy was cooking for breakfast.  
  
"You sure slept late," I said in a falsely bright tone.  
  
He nodded as he shoved food into his mouth as fast as he could.  
  
"No need to eat so fast," I told him. "You might choke."  
  
"You can't take it back if it's in my stomach," he informed me. I nearly laughed at the solemn look on his face, then realized that that was his life. Eating quickly when he could before anyone could take it away.  
  
"You can always come here for food," I assured him. "And I won't take it away."  
  
He actually smiled at that, then continued eating at a slightly slower pace.  
  
Mandy and I talked good-naturedly for a while about this and that and a few things in between.  
  
"What are we going to do with Tristan?" she asked. "I can't very well turn him away."  
  
"Then he'll have to stay," I said. "Nancy has a daughter his age. He won't be lonely."  
  
It was a quarter to noon when I felt a familiar tug at my stomach and a slight pain in my head reminding me that I was supposed to meet Gareth. I groaned, but decided to attempt to ignore it. Perhaps this would be the day I broke the curse.  
  
"I have to go, Mandy," I finally said, five minutes later. The pain in my head was so great that I couldn't even hear her response, and I nearly ran out the door.  
  
The moment I stepped out the door, I felt perfectly fine. I walked as slow as I could to the gate, occasionally stopping just to see if I could. But then the complaints would start up again and I'd have to keep moving.  
  
Gareth, who was quickly becoming the bane of my existence, was standing at the gate as I arrived. The sun was at its highest point in the sky and I could see the light glinting in his eyes. This was the last place I wanted to be.  
  
"I knew you'd come," he said by way of greeting.  
  
"I didn't have a choice," I replied. He kept silent, waiting for me to elaborate. I didn't.  
  
"I wanted to give you something," he told me. I was afraid he would try to take my hand and lead me somewhere, but luck was with me for the moment. Instead, he reached into a cloth bag and produced a pair of shoes. He handed them to me.  
  
"What are these for?"  
  
"You," he said with a hopeful grin. "I thought you might want a pair that won't fall off."  
  
I took the shoes and examined them. They didn't have any heel, like my other pair had. The inside of it was soft and I saw it could be molded to fit my foot. They had laces, just like boots.  
  
"You can run in these," Gareth said. "In case someone else tries to steal something from you, you won't have to rely on people like me to trail after you with your shoes."  
  
Was he giving me a hint? Did he think it easy to steal from me, so he'd give me these so I could run faster and create a challenge for him?  
  
"They're nice," I admitted. "But no thank you."  
  
He looked disappointed when I handed them back. "You don't want them?"  
  
I shook my head, thinking of how lovely it would be to walk in those without having to constantly complain of foot pain. "No, I don't." Not if they were from him. "Why don't you sell them? Make some money."  
  
"I make enough money with shoes," he said. "These are a gift."  
  
"Shoes?" I wondered.  
  
"I'm an apprentice shoemaker," he explicated.  
  
"Like in the story," I said, half to myself.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"A shoemaker, like in the story," I repeated. He seemed lost. "The Elves and the Shoemaker. You must have heard of it."  
  
He shook his head. "Will you tell me?"  
  
I gave him a sharp look. I had expected him to order me to tell him. But he issued as few orders to me as Mother once had. I took a breath, then told him the version of the story I had read while visiting the elves. He was like Mandy in the way he listened, laughing and gasping and sighing in all the right parts. He grinned as I finished.  
  
"Not all shoemakers are that inept," he told me.  
  
"I'd like to meet one who breaks that mold." He laughed, as he did with all my insults. It was grating on my nerves.  
  
"Your throat is dry,' he said. "You must be thirsty."  
  
I was. But if I said yes, he would surely want to go to the nearby stream or well to get water with me. I didn't want that.  
  
But thirst won over. "Yes, I am," I managed.  
  
"There's a stream right over there," he said, as I knew he would. "We can get water."  
  
The silver lining on the otherwise gray cloud of having to spend more time with him was that he didn't talk to me as we walked. He knew I was too parched for speech.  
  
He took off his shoes and socks and stuck his feet in the stream while I drank my fill.  
  
"Aren't you cold?" I said as I finished. He turned to look at me.  
  
"No. It's nice out today."  
  
"But the water's freezing."  
  
"Worried I'll catch a chill?" he said, smirking.  
  
That quieted me. I didn't care if he was cold, I was just asking.  
  
"I'd better get back," I announced. "Mandy will be upset if I'm gone long." It was a lie, but I wanted to get back to the comfort and safety of the kitchen.  
  
"If you must," he said. "But will you at least take the shoes?"  
  
I glanced at the shoes he was holding. I wanted them, yes. But not from him.  
  
"Please," he said. "I want you to have them." He put on a mournful pout.  
  
"Fine," I said, grabbing them from his hands. "If it lets me get rid of you, once and for all."  
  
He tapped his nose and laughed "It's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me."  
  
"I don't have to see you if I don't want to," I lied. Unless he ordered me to. I hoped he wouldn't.  
  
"You came today," he pointed out, pushing his hair out of his face again.  
  
I chose to ignore that, because I could offer him no explanation that he would believe.  
  
"Meet me tomorrow," he said. "Same time, same place."  
  
I groaned. Another order. I should have covered my ears.  
  
"See you then!" he called after me as I felt. I could hear a cocky grin in his voice and resisted the urge to run back and wipe it off.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Where were you?" Mandy asked as I returned.  
  
"I went to the stream," I said. It wasn't a lie. I didn't feel like telling her who I went with, was all.  
  
"With Gareth?"  
  
So much for not telling her.  
  
"Yes," I said. "He ordered me to, yesterday."  
  
"I thought as much," she said. "Are you going back tomorrow?"  
  
I frowned. "Unfortunately, yes. Gareth the Insufferable ordered me to again." My face brightened. "You could order me not to go! Would you, Mandy?"  
  
She smiled over her food. "I think it would be good for you to see him, love. To get your mind off other things."  
  
Like Char? I wanted to say. Impossible.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Gareth was standing by the gate waiting for me the next day, leaning against a large tree with leaves just beginning to turn red. He flashed me one of his arrogant grins, as if he had won by making me want to be here. I grated my heel into hit foot as he said hello, causing him to sound a lot like Hattie as he yelped. It made me feel slightly better.  
  
"You're not wearing the shoes," he said, gesturing to my feet.  
  
"No," I said. Truth be told, I had worn them all afternoon yesterday. They were quite comfortable, but I wasn't about to tell him that. He might think I liked them.  
  
I spent the next ten minutes successfully shooting down any of his attempts at conversation. At last, he threw up his hands in defeat.  
  
"Why did you even come if you're not planning on talking to me, Ella?" he asked.  
  
I frowned at him. "I don't think I have to explain myself to you."  
  
He shook his head. "I'll see you tomorrow, then? Meet me here at noon."  
  
Shame. I had almost thought he was not going to issue another command. I left without answering him, but I knew I'd have to be there again tomorrow.  
  
And the next day, as it turned out. It was the same every day: we'd talk by the gate (or, rather, he'd talk and I'd try my best not to), then I'd tell him I had to go and he'd give me a command without realizing he was doing so and I'd have to come back the next day.  
  
Mandy was wrong about our meetings making me stop thinking about Char. I still thought of him all the time, even with Gareth. But, though I hated to admit it, I was beginning to hate our meetings less and less. I got to laugh during them, and even though the pain of leaving Char didn't seem to ebb, I was getting used to it.  
  
"I brought food," he told me, two weeks later as I came out of the manor gate.  
  
"Mmm, good," I said. "I'm hungry."  
  
He looked surprised at me not making some sort of retort, but I just looked innocently up at him.  
  
"Well? What did you bring?"  
  
"Oh, yes," he said. "Bread, soup, some lettuce thing, and chicken. And some goblets so we can have a drink by the stream."  
  
We brought the food to the stream and he gave me my food on a plate. I filled the two goblets with water from the spring and the beginning of the stream. When I returned, he had taken the best place to sit, underneath my favorite tree.  
  
I raised my eyebrows. "That's my place," I told him. "Get up."  
  
He grinned. "You're welcome to share."  
  
"Not likely," I said, sighing and settling for a spot on a large rock a few yards away from him. "Where did you get this food from?" It suddenly seemed likely that he'd stolen it. I stopped eating.  
  
"Not to worry. I paid for it," he said earnestly. I looked skeptically at him, but resumed the meal. I'd never actually seen him steal anything. I may as well believe him.  
  
After leaving Gareth that afternoon (with an unwitting command to come back), Hattie ordered me to her chambers again. I reluctantly obeyed.  
  
"Edmund has asked to call on me again," she said. I noted that she had dropped the title.  
  
"Did he?"  
  
"Yes. He seemed eager to see me again. And how can I blame him?"  
  
"He must be quite desperate for a wife," I said.  
  
"That was rude, Ella. Apologize."  
  
I hesitated. Then, "I'm sorry for telling the truth, Hattie."  
  
Hattie didn't seem to understand for a moment, then told me curtly that I could leave.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"My parents both died when I was seven," Gareth was telling me the next day. "I lived with my older sister and her husband for a while after that, but the husband hated me."  
  
"Cannot imagine why," I said sarcastically.  
  
"I left their house a year after that. But I couldn't stay in Bast because I was afraid my sister would find me and bring me back to live with her. So I left for Frell. I'd heard a lot of great things about this place."  
  
"Does it live up to them?" I wondered aloud.  
  
He shrugged. "I suppose it does. Anyway, I met another boy about my age who was the son of the shoemaker. He did a lot of odd jobs around his house and I helped. I was fascinated with the shoes."  
  
For some reason, I could help but giggle slightly.  
  
"What's funny?" he asked in fake indignation. But I could see he was smiling at making me laugh.  
  
It felt strange to laugh, but I couldn't help myself. I hadn't truly laughed in a while. But then I thought of Char's laughter, and I stopped. It used to be so easy for me to make him laugh. I could hear the sound of it while at the menagerie, while at the old castle, while on the road away from finishing school, in his letters, at the ball. I could feel the tears start. I brushed them away before Gareth could see them.  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"No," I said. "Nothing. Please, go on. Why were you so fascinated with shoes?"  
  
He smiled again. "I have no idea. But I know that the shoemaker's son was more than happy to give up his right to apprentice his father. So when I came of age, I got the job. I suppose I've had it for the past five years or so. Another five and I am a certified shoemaker."  
  
"Congratulations," I said.  
  
"No, not yet. But thank you anyway."  
  
He lay down on his side in the grass and propped his head up on his hand. I shifted over another foot away from him.  
  
"So what about you?" he asked. "Was your childhood as exciting as mine?"  
  
I had been thinking about Char, but his question snapped me out of my reverie.  
  
"Not nearly," I said.  
  
"Well, something had to have happened. You say your father is Sir Peter. Which makes you daughter of that Olga woman. She's quite repellent, if you don't mind me saying so."  
  
"I don't mind. In fact, I agree," I said. "But I'm not her daughter."  
  
"But her husband is your father?" He grinned. "That makes you an illegitimate love child. How thrilling."  
  
"Dame Olga is my father's second wife," I said. "I'm her step- daughter."  
  
"Oh." Gareth looked slightly disappointed. "That's still exciting, I suppose."  
  
"No, it's not," I told him. "It's horrible. She hates me."  
  
"That explains the servant's garb, then."  
  
I looked sideways at him. "Yes," I said softly.  
  
"Does your father know?"  
  
"No. Yes. A bit."  
  
He leaned up from his spot on the ground so that he was sitting, facing me with about five feet between us.  
  
"Well, don't worry," he said. "There has to be a way to fix that. There's a way to fix everything."  
  
Is there? I thought. Then what about Char? There didn't seem to be a way to fix that.  
  
"I suppose you're right," I said. I stood up. "I should go. It's nearly an hour after noon."  
  
"See you tomorrow?" he asked. No order.  
  
"Yes," I said, after a moment. "Same time, same place."  
  
He smiled.  
  
~~~~~  
  
When I looked in my magic book that night, I was especially lucky to find two articles having to do with Char. I found an entry in his journal, accompanied by a picture. I read eagerly.  
  
She has been in my mind often recently. I know I promised  
  
myself I wouldn't write of her again, but I can't help but  
  
break the promise. I am on a journey similar to the one  
  
that I found her on months ago. Every morning I wake up,  
  
thinking of her. It would be so much easier to capture  
  
these ogres if she were here. And I desperately want to  
  
talk to her again, despite the fact that she's not who I  
  
thought she was.  
  
I suppose the person I want to talk to is the Ella I fell  
  
in love with. The Ella I searched for at her father's  
  
wedding, the Ella in the letters she wrote. Then I remind  
  
myself that that person doesn't exist anywhere but my mind.  
  
The real Ella is a fraud. I'm sure she'd forgotten me  
  
already. I'm sure she hated me the whole time. I wish I  
  
could hate her.  
  
I tell myself this everyday, yet I still think of her. I'm  
  
starting to think I am hopeless. I should have forgotten  
  
about her by now. It's been nearly eight months. But I'm as  
  
much in love with her – the Ella I thought I knew – as  
  
ever.  
  
To make things worse, Bertram mentioned her today while we  
  
were studying our Ogrese. This caused all the rest of my  
  
knights to launch into conversation about her. Of course I  
  
didn't join in the conversation. I had to leave. I was  
  
afraid of how I would react if they spoke so much about  
  
this girl that I can never have.  
  
Now that I've thoroughly broken the promise, I suppose I  
  
should go help Stephan start the fire. Perhaps I shall  
  
throw this page into it.  
  
I couldn't help but sigh at reading this. He still cared about me! I wasn't the only pining away, he pined for me, too!  
  
But I caused him pain. I felt terrible at being happy that he thought of me. It would be better if he forgot about me. At least he would be free of that pain. And all I wanted was for him to be happy.  
  
I turned to the picture, which showed him staying true to his word and throwing what looked like the page of his journal into the fire. Sir Stephan was looking confused at Char's actions, but Char looked angry and determined as he stared at the fire. Angry at me. Determined to forget me.  
  
The person he fell in love with didn't exist, he had said. I longed to run and run until I reached him so I could shout at him no, no don't think that, love. I do exist, and I do love you and I do think of you every moment of every day of every week of every month. The two months we'd been apart seemed to stretch to be longer than an age, and the ache I felt to touch him felt ancient. I could still hear the echo of his laughter clear in my ears, but I'd do anything to hear it again. I wanted the sound of his laughter to be the last thing I heard before I died.  
  
I kissed his picture. I looked at his hands, clutching his journal. I loved those hands. I looked at his eyes and found myself lost in them, seas of blue. My yearning for him was greater than it had been in days; so great that I seriously considered stealing one of Dame Olga's horse and riding to him. But I reminded myself of the curse, and I tried to shut away the thought of him. I couldn't.  
  
Oh, how I wanted to be able to love him. I felt I was under two curses: Lucinda's and the curse of loving Char. I wondered if I had a chance at breaking either.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Thanks to Tempest Dragon, Gwen, Star Fighter Heart, Swishy Willow Wand, anonymous, angelwings6117, babyjayy, Tokyobabe2040, The Queen of the Pugs, and singinstrawberri for reviewing. Let me say again that you guys are so amazing.  
  
Most people seemed to pick up on the fact that Gareth's letter was an order. My beta didn't even notice, so good on you all.  
  
Gwen: Those compliments meant a lot to me, as well as the pointers. I didn't even notice my dialect errors – I'll have to go back and change them.  
  
angelwings6117: Hmm. I did have the plot planned out, but your ideas are pretty interesting and inspired me to change it just a little bit (and maybe eventually more). Thanks for the thoughts!  
  
Next chapter: In which Ella receives something she's been dreading and finds something she didn't expect. Should be up by next weekend.  
  
Edit: Thank you, fantasyfan for pointing out my error with Char's letter. For the record, I do read these chapters over and have them edited, despite this continuity error. But only one reviewer noticed, so I guess it was pretty easy to overlook. (If you didn't notice it, I'm not telling!) 


	5. A Song To Sing

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: All those long reviews blew me away. I love you guys. Keep reading and reviewing, it makes me very happy.  
  
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.  
  
~~~~~  
  
~ Call it a Gift  
  
~ By Blackberry Ink  
  
~ Chapter Four: A Song to Sing  
  
~~~~~  
  
Goodbye four leaf clovers.  
Hello gone awry  
Don't cry the fight ain't over  
Unless you let it pass you by  
  
I'm looking for a song to sing,  
Looking for a friend to borrow.  
I'm looking for my radio.  
So I might find a heart to follow.  
  
- Hanson – A Song to Sing  
  
~~~~~  
  
Another week and I came to the realization that I was enjoying my meetings with Gareth. At first it was startling, but I was beginning to feel for him the same friendship I felt for Areida. I felt comfortable around him. I liked talking with him. He was the second male I'd ever felt friendship towards, Char being the first, of course. But Char was out of reach. And I doubted I could ever love anyone in the way I loved Char.  
  
Mandy had sent me to market that day to fetch some apples (Hattie was craving them).  
  
"Ella!" came a familiar voice from not to far away. I turned to see Gareth in his shoemaker's apron. His wiped his hands on the apron, leaving long smudges on it.  
  
"Hello, Gareth," I said. "I didn't expect to see you here."  
  
"Nice surprise, isn't it?"  
  
I gave him a weary sigh. But, in truth, I was glad to have company.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Coming to see me? Couldn't wait until noon, could you?"  
  
"I'm buying apples for Hattie," I said. "I live only to serve her."  
  
He laughed. It was good to make someone laugh again, but I'd rather it be Char.  
  
"What were you doing?" I asked. "Aren't you working?"  
  
"Yes," Gareth said. "But he won't notice if I'm gone. I can work extra hard when I return."  
  
We reached the apple stand, and I bought several for a good price.  
  
As we neared the shoemaker's, I said, "Shouldn't you get back to work? I wouldn't want you in trouble because of me."  
  
He grinned. "Why, I didn't know you cared, Ella."  
  
I let out a weary sigh. "Well, we can keep walking if you feel so inclined."  
  
"I do," he said. "Unless you tire of me already. Don't think seeing me now will get you away from seeing me at noon, too."  
  
I gave an unladylike shrug. "It matters not."  
  
"Good. Then we'll walk."  
  
"No, you won't."  
  
We turned, startled, to see Ms. Stevenson, the shoemaker, standing in front of us with a fed-up expression on his face.  
  
"You slack enough as it is, Gareth. I don't care how good you are at your craft, you're still not as good as me. I let you go over an hour a day to frolic with this lass and you think it'll be okay to take more time? I tell you-"  
  
I stopped listening to him, and so, apparently, did Gareth. Turning to leave, Gareth touched my arm and leaned close to whisper, "See you at noon," then left to subdue Mr. Stevenson and get back to work. He waved as he disappeared around the corner.  
  
His closeness had reminded me of Char, somehow (Though it was not surprising, as nearly everything could make me think of Char). I recalled the first time Char had been that near to me, and I recalled the way I had felt the touch travel throughout my body and make me think of nothing but him. It was reassuring to know that Gareth's touch had made me feel nothing of the sort.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Talk to me."  
  
It was Olive, and she was in the kitchen again. She hadn't been there in a while, probably because I had been gone with Gareth and had missed her arrivals. Perhaps it had finally occurred to her to come a bit earlier.  
  
"What about?" I glanced out the window at the sun, which was out of sight. But the lack of shadows told me that it was noon, or near. Gareth hadn't ordered I meet him at noon, so I didn't feel the tug to obey. It seemed I would be stuck with Olive. I groaned.  
  
"Tell me something about when you were little. Tell me about a time you lost money."  
  
A time I lost money? I couldn't recall money ever being something I thought very much about as a child. I'd have to lie, and hopefully the curse would accept it.  
  
"Once, when I was eight," I began. "I...was given twenty gold KJs."  
  
"Why?" Olive wanted to know, her voice so flat I could barely register that it was a question.  
  
"It was my birthday."  
  
"Alright."  
  
As I went on to tell a story of how I'd foolishly lost half the money, then had the other half taken away by my father because he thought I couldn't handle the responsibility of money, I heard a tap on the window. Olive, apparently in some sort of trance, didn't notice. I chanced a look at the window and saw Gareth standing there, tapping on it with his knuckles. I waved my arm at him to tell him to wait, but Olive finally noticed.  
  
"Who is that?" she asked.  
  
"Who?" I lied.  
  
"That man at the window," Olive said. "I saw a man."  
  
"I didn't," I said. "Perhaps you were seeing things."  
  
"I wasn't," she said. "I saw a man."  
  
"I didn't see him, so I don't know. I don't know why a man would want to be at this window for."  
  
"I think he was the man that Mandy is courting." Olive laughed a hollow laugh, and I nearly laughed as well at the idea of Gareth and Mandy courting.  
  
"Maybe,' I said. "I'm really very busy here, Olive. How about you let me work."  
  
"You can work and talk at the same time."  
  
"Not as well. Don't you want your food to be good?"  
  
The mention of food seemed to consider leaving, and about a minute later, she did. I hurried to the door and opened it to find Gareth, leaning against the wall with his hair in his face. I think he did it because he thought it made him look dashing.  
  
"Hello," I said.  
  
"Who was that? Was that Hattie?"  
  
"No, her sister, Olive. She's dumber, so she's slightly less insufferable."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Do you want to come into the kitchen? I've got all those apples from this morning. It turned out that Hattie didn't want them."  
  
Gareth nodded, and I threw an apple to him from across the kitchen and he caught it deftly as he entered.  
  
"Did your mother actually give you all that money for your birthday?" he asked me.  
  
"You heard? And no, she didn't. What did I want with money when I was that young?"  
  
He leaned against the wall again as he ate. "I would have wanted it."  
  
"Well, you and I are quite different people."  
  
"Are we?"  
  
"Yes. I mean, look at our backgrounds. You grew up...well..."  
  
"Poor?"  
  
"Yes, but also differently. You grew a different mentality. You take whatever you can get."  
  
"And you are defiant, yet always do what other people tell you to."  
  
"I don't always do what other people tell me to," I lied.  
  
He took another bite of his apple. "Yes, you do. Maybe not directly, but in some way you always do what exactly what people tell you to."  
  
How could he have caught on? He barely ever ordered me to do anything.  
  
"Give me an example."  
  
"Just now," Gareth said. "You told that story to Olive, just because she told you to."  
  
"I work for Olive," I said, and it sounded strange coming from my tongue. "She could throw me out on the streets if I was disrespectful to her."  
  
"She couldn't throw you out. Your father wouldn't allow it."  
  
He had a point. But he couldn't find out about the curse. I trusted him enough to know that he wouldn't exploit me, but I didn't want him to treat me like glass, either.  
  
"My father is never home. She could throw me out just after he left and it would be too late by the time he returned."  
  
He considered it. I could see him opening his mouth to make another point, but I gave him a look that told him to drop this topic. I was glad when he did.  
  
"Well, I still think he are alike in some ways."  
  
"And I still think we're completely different. What does it matter?"  
  
"Here, let me give you another example." He thought. "Have you ever been in love?"  
  
I paused, and tried to keep my eyes from filling with tears as I thought of Char. "Yes," I murmured.  
  
Gareth looked slightly surprised at both my answer and my apparent sadness. But he pushed on.  
  
"With whom, might I ask?"  
  
"I don't see why it's any of your business," I said, a bit too roughly.  
  
"Oh, come on Ella," he said, not picking up on my tone. "Tell me."  
  
"Do I have to?" I said, before I could stop myself.  
  
He looked startled. "Well, no, I suppose you don't have to tell me."  
  
"Tell me not to," I said through clenched teeth. The curse was making my head throb from not obeying.  
  
Now he looked even more confused. "Er, don't tell me who you were in love with?"  
  
My complaints were gone. I straightened and wiped a stray tear from my eye before he saw it. Then I decided to turn the tables.  
  
"What about you, then?"  
  
"No," Gareth said. "Never."  
  
"You must be older than I am," I said, reminding myself of Char and mine's old joke.  
  
"I'm eighteen," he said.  
  
"Another difference between us, then," I said. "I'm a year younger."  
  
He grinned at seeing me back to normal.  
  
"We both have small feet," he said.  
  
"What makes you think I have small feet?"  
  
"I've spent a lot of time around your shoes."  
  
I laughed. "That's true."  
  
"Let me see you're feet, then," he said. "I'll wager ours are the same size."  
  
"They won't be," I said. "My feet are unnaturally small."  
  
"As are mine," he said. "It runs in the family."  
  
Warily, I lifted my dress slightly and slipped my foot out of its shoe as Gareth took off his own shoe. He moved closer to me and put his foot next to mine. They were exactly the same size. My eyes widened.  
  
"But your shoes-" I began.  
  
"I stuff them," he said. "So it doesn't look so strange."  
  
"You say this runs in your family?" It wasn't possible that he was a fairy, was it? No, he would have known I was a Friend of the Fairies and wouldn't have let me know who he was. And he couldn't be a Friend as well – Mandy had told me that I was the only one left in Kyrria. Or had she meant the only one in my line? Perhaps there was more than one line of Friends in Kyrria? Or perhaps Mandy had meant there was only one left in the Eleanor line?  
  
"Yes," he said. "I can't explain why, but all our men have small feet."  
  
I slid my shoe back on. "You still haven't proven your point. The same foot size doesn't make us alike."  
  
"No," he agreed. "But it's something."  
  
~~~~~  
  
In the days ahead the bizarre size of Gareth's foot slipped from my mind while I was forced to immerse myself in work. Dame Olga had received word from Father that he would be coming home earlier than expected and a large dinner had been planned to welcome him home. Everyone who was anyone in Frell and many outside our town had been invited; partially because their curse made Dame Olga miss Father dreadfully and partially because she wanted to show off the new fireplace that had been built in the dining hall. It had only been a month since he'd gone, so I thought the news strange. He usually stayed out on his trips for two months at the least. Although in recent times my servitude had made me glad (at least partially) to have him home, I was disappointed this time because it kept me from visiting Gareth.  
  
Still, there was a silver lining to the otherwise dreary cloud: I had less time to spend thinking of Char.  
  
I cooked and cleaned for what seemed like days on end, barely having time to sleep and no time at all to bathe myself. One night, when I had managed to finish in time to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, Hattie called me into her chambers.  
  
"Be a dear and untie my corset, Ella," she commanded. I was too tired not to obey immediately.  
  
"Our grand dinner is tomorrow night," she said, as if this was the first time I had heard the fact. "Although I feel you are not yet ready to be present at a social gathering as important as this, my mother insists that you attend." Do that Sir Peter won't be able to prove your servitude, was the unsaid addendum.  
  
"I can hardly wait," I said in a monotone.  
  
"Do try to keep from making a complete fool of yourself, Ella," she said.  
  
"I'll try."  
  
"The prince will be there."  
  
I dropped the strings I had been holding and near sank to the floor.  
  
"Char?" I whispered, before I could stop myself.  
  
Hattie gave me an odd look in the mirror. "Yes. Charmont. But I'm sure he will not pay much attention to your presence, so you needn't worry."  
  
I needn't worry? Oh, what would I do if he chose to confront me? I didn't think I would be able to keep from telling him I loved him. And what if he commanded me? How would I keep myself from gazing at him throughout the entire dinner?  
  
"Charmont very nearly was unable to attend," Hattie said. "But I am sure that the prospect of seeing me drew him away from his journey to capture ogres."  
  
For the moment, I had forgotten he was out incarcerating ogres with his knights. I wondered what had been the true cause of his early return.  
  
"You may go," Hattie said after I had clumsily untied her corset. I left her room in a trance, thinking of nothing and no one but Char.  
  
He was coming. Tomorrow night. I was going to see him. Perhaps I would even dance with him. Explain my problem and beg his forgiveness and make him laugh until he cried and –  
  
No. I would ignore him. I would pretend to be the haughty girl I had written of in my letters to him. I would keep Kyrria safe. I would keep him safe from me.  
  
~~~~~  
  
I finally managed to get out of work the next day a bit before lunch and went to see Gareth.  
  
"And her majesty finally decides to show up, does she?" he said upon my arrival, pushing a dark blond lock away from his face.  
  
"I'm sorry, Gareth, I-"  
  
"No, it's quite alright," he said, face brightening considerably. "I know you've been busy. You look a mess, by the way."  
  
"Thank you," I said. If I looked anything close to the way I felt, he was right.  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. Yes. A bit," I told him.  
  
He raised his eyebrows, inviting me to elaborate.  
  
"There's a dinner tonight," I explained. "A very important one. Nearly every stuffy and inept person of social standing will be there."  
  
"Then you'll be right at home, won't you?"  
  
I took no notice of his easy insult. I merely continued to look worried.  
  
"Ella, there's no need to be nervous. I'm sure if you nod and smile no one will think any less of you. Perhaps it will even be fun. Maybe the prince himself will come and whisk you off your feet on his gleaming white horse and make you his queen."  
  
He'd already tried that, and to no avail. I was sure he'd never make another stab at it, and if he did, I'd have to parry again.  
  
"The prince is coming," I said.  
  
"Truly?" Gareth said in wonderment. "I didn't think Dame Olga was that popular."  
  
"She is," I said. "She has many friends in high places. Or people who pretend to be her friend, at the very least."  
  
He laughed. "Well, then me idea of the prince making you his queen is possible, then."  
  
I sat and hugged my knees to my chest. "Don't say that, Gareth."  
  
He sat beside me. "You're not alright. Something else is troubling you."  
  
"It's nothing," I said. "It's not important."  
  
Skeptical, he said, "Are you sure?"  
  
I hesitated, but nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm fine."  
  
"Then I suggest you get back to help Mandy and spruce yourself up for this dinner. You look like you haven't bathed in months."  
  
"Not properly, no," I admitted. "Shall I meet you here tomorrow?"  
  
"Certainly," he said, touching his hat in farewell. I must have looked somewhat frightened, or anxious, because he reached out and squeezed my hand for reassurance.  
  
And as I left, I couldn't help but think that it was good to have a friend.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Something wrong, sweet?" Mandy asked as I dropped a copper stewpot. She righted it. "You haven't been yourself today."  
  
"I always drop things," I said. "You know how clumsy I am."  
  
"You haven't been this clumsy since you got back from finishing school."  
  
"Char's coming," I blurted. I had been holding it in all day and I felt some relief at saying it. "He's coming to the manor tonight. For Dame Olga's dinner."  
  
"Oh, Lady," Mandy whispered, coming over to hug me. "You need not go. We can say that you've fallen ill and are unable to attend."  
  
A part of me knew that was the best solution, but an exceedingly large part was longing to see Char again, even if his notice of me would most likely be only to glare.  
  
"No," I said. "I should go. I don't want Father to worry." I didn't care if Father worried, but admitting to Mandy that I just wanted to be in the presence of Char again would surely stop her from allowing me to attend.  
  
Mandy held me at arms length. "Your father won't worry if I tell him it's not much of an illness."  
  
"But if it's not much of an illness he'll ask me to attend," I responded. "He cares not for my discomfort."  
  
"I suppose you're right, sweet. But I don't like you going through this. Going to those balls was dangerous enough."  
  
I dropped her arms gently from around me. I stood at full height, becoming determined.  
  
"I'm going," I said. "I'll seat myself far from him, out of his sight if possible, and I'll stay away from him the entire time."  
  
Mandy must have been able to see that I was adamant, so she nodded.  
  
"You should go then, love, and get ready. You wouldn't want to look like a scullery maid in the presence of your father."  
  
I smiled a wavering smile and left the kitchens to wash myself. After all, I looked a mess.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A/N: Sorry for the short-ish chapter. I didn't want to drag it out and I had to end it before the dinner began. I know I didn't exactly hold true to the chapter thing I wrote at the end of chapter three, but there was a slight change of plans. But you could say that meeting Char in a situation like this was something she'd been dreading (and looking forward to, I suppose) and finding a friend in Gareth was something she didn't expect. Or you could just say that I added more things in that I wasn't intending and what I said would happen in this chapter will happen later on instead.  
  
Thanks to Swishy Willow Wand, awaiting impatient person, jess131346, babyjayy, Tempest Dragon, soccerstarz, Leigh M. Sumpter, Tokyobabe2040, Coral, cc, LOTR-nutcase, Alex, singinstrawberri, RoseGodess9, and monkiibijinesu for reviewing! At the risk of sounding repetitive – you guys are amazing.  
  
RoseGodess9: Thank you so much! Your compliments seem hard to come by (as I've read your reviews of other stories) and all that praise really made my day!  
  
singinstrawberri: Happy belated birthday! I'm so glad your enjoying my story.  
  
Tokyobabe2040: While neither of your predictions is completely right, you have guessed a thing or two (possibly more) about where this story is headed. I'd tell you more, but...I don't want to give it away. ;)  
  
Next chapter: Sir Peter returns and Dame Olga gets to show off her new fireplace. Will Ella be able to keep up the pretense that she's married, rich, and happy because of her wealth while in Char's presence? Probably won't be posted as soon as these recent chapters have been. Spring break ends today and I'll have to put schoolwork first. :( 


	6. Coming Up Tails

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update. I thought I'd be able to update sooner but I've been very sick and very busy with schoolwork. Apparently I'm not responding to the medicine my doctor's giving me. So I've been lying on the couch watching television and pitying myself for quite a while, as well as puking at intervals...but I'll spare you any more details. Here's Chapter Five.  
  
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

Call it a Gift  
  
By Blackberry Ink  
  
Chapter Five: Coming Up Tails

* * *

Tell me your secrets  
  
And ask me your questions  
  
Oh let's go back to the start  
  
Running in circles  
  
Coming up tails  
  
Heads on a silence apart  
  
Nobody said it was easy  
  
Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
  
Nobody said it was easy  
  
No one ever said it would be this hard  
  
- Coldplay – _The Scientist__

* * *

_

The hours until dinner passed in what seemed like a minute. I felt like I was acting like Hattie in the way I spend too much time in front of a mirror, making myself as perfect as possible. But, even though I was determinedly not going to look at him, on the off chance that he glimpsed me, I wanted to look my best. I'd hate for him to see me look anything but.  
  
"Ella, darling!" Dame Olga said in a syrupy voice from the end of the hall. "Come here! The guests are arriving!"  
  
I took a last glance at myself in the mirror and thought of looking to my magic book for a picture of Char again. Then I reminded myself that I would be in his presence all night. The curse pulled at me to join Dame Olga. Mustn't keep my guests waiting.  
  
"Oh, Ella! There you are," Dame Olga said as I came into view. "Sir Giles, this is my step-daughter, Eleanor. Eleanor, this is Sir Giles, from Bast. He is a friend of your father."  
  
In my best Manners Mistress style, I held out my hand as a very old and wrinkly mouth kissed it, leering slightly. I pulled my hand back as quickly as possible.  
  
"Greetings, Eleanor," Sir Giles said.  
  
I forced a smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you."  
  
He leered again. I had the distinct impression that I wouldn't be able to rid myself of him easily. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Eleanor. May I say that you look stunning in that gown?"  
  
I wanted to be sick all over the green ruffles of his outfit. "You may."  
  
Dame Olga nearly forced my arm into his as he offered it. I wished for Char to be here. On second thought, I wished for Gareth to be here. He would get me away so I could watch Char from afar.  
  
"Would you like to dance?" Sir Giles asked.  
  
I looked around for someone who could help me evade him. But there seemed to be no kind face. I would have to avoid him myself.  
  
"I'm afraid I must greet the rest of the guests, good sir," I told him. I had no desire to have my hand kissed for the rest of the hour, but it had to be better than Sir Giles' leering.  
  
"Of course, my lady," he said. His wrinkles crinkled at me and I had to force myself to keep from grimacing. "May I seek you out later?"  
  
I thought quickly of an excuse. "I shall look for you," I lied. "If I am not too overwhelmed. I have missed my father and look forward to spending time with him." Was it possible that he could believe me?  
  
He nodded and I breathed easier. He kissed my knuckles and left. No doubt to find another young woman without an escort.  
  
I took a place next to Dame Olga and her spawn on the greeting line. There were what seemed like thousands of guests lined up to say their hellos to us. I had had no idea of the enormity of this event until that moment. I supposed it was because everyone knew of Mandy's good cooking. And of the fact that Char would be coming.  
  
Char. And he would be coming to greet Father on this very line! And he would see me and –  
  
I had to leave.  
  
But the moment I thought it, fate decided to play a trick on me. In my panic, I looked outside to see a grand carriage pulling up to the circle outside the manor. I blanched and moved to leave.  
  
"Ella!" Dame Olga whispered harshly. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"I..." I couldn't think. Char was here. I craned my neck undetectably to see him despite myself.  
  
"What will people think if you leave? What will the prince think of your rudeness? Stay."  
  
An order. I grew roots.  
  
My breathing was rough and quickened as I saw Char step out of the carriage. What was he doing here? My Father was just another no-account knight of the king. Char didn't belong here. He was too good to be in the presence of terrible people like my family. He was too precious to be near someone as horrible as me.  
  
He stepped out of the carriage and I caught a glimpse of something – pain? – before he masked it behind false happiness. How could anyone think he would be happy here? I had almost caused his destruction. I would kill him. He hated me. He hated me. He hated me.  
  
I willed myself not to cry. I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't. He mustn't see me like this. He mustn't see me at all. It would hurt him. It would kill me.  
  
He was coming closer. I tried to leave but the curse wouldn't let me. Dame Olga muttered something harshly in my ear but I couldn't hear her.  
  
He was shaking hands with Father. He didn't appear to have noticed me. He was ignoring me. What would he do when it came time to greet me? Would he pass me as if I wasn't here? Would he pretend not to know me? And what would I do? I bit my lip in nervousness.  
  
He bowed to Dame Olga. She gave him a fluttering laugh and a curtsy and said something about being happy to have him here. But he wasn't happy to be here. He hated it. He hated these dinners and balls. I didn't want him to be here. It caused him displeasure. And yet I didn't think I could bear it if he left.  
  
He came to me and his eyes hardened slightly. I didn't think anyone else noticed. Perhaps I had only imagined it. I could only envisage how I looked.  
  
"Greetings, Lady Eleanor," he said, bowing. He was pretending not to know me. I couldn't bear it.  
  
I curtsied. My hand visibly trembled as I offered it to him. What did he think of me?  
  
He raised his eyebrows slightly in question as he kissed my hand. My eyes fluttered shut for a moment against my will and I swallowed. Did his lips last longer on my hand than they should have? Had I imagined it? Yes. I had. He hated me. He hated me. He hated me.  
  
He released my hand and I nearly cried out. I needed him near me. How could he leave? I needed to apologize. I was wrong. I loved him. I never meant to hurt him and I couldn't live without his forgiveness. I was a fool to think there was no way for me to marry him. Of course there was a way. Kyrria would be perfectly safe. I loved him. I loved him. I loved him.  
  
"Char..." I whispered pathetically before I came to my senses. He looked slightly startled and his eyes darted to me for a moment as he spoke to Hattie.  
  
"Did you say something, Lady Eleanor?" he asked. Hattie smirked at me.  
  
I could feel tears pricking at my eyes. I turned to leave but the curse still couldn't let me.  
  
"No," I got out. "No, nothing." I love you! I love you! I've always loved you and I'll never stop! my heart screamed.  
  
Then he went into the next hall and was gone. Head spinning, I begged Dame Olga to let me excuse myself. She allowed it, and I near ran away.  
  
Not knowing where else to go, I fled to the door out of the servant's quarters and out of the manor. The tears were flowing freely now. I let myself collapse into the grass, probably staining my dress. I didn't care. Nothing mattered. I was in love with a man who hated me. My life was over. I would waste away the rest of my days having my hand kissed be people like Sir Giles. I would cook with Mandy and talk with Gareth when I could, but probably end up moving far away and never see anyone I cared for ever again. I'd become what I most despised. I'd become Dame Olga.  
  
I wondered who to go to. Mandy was indisposed with her cooking and serving. She could be fired if I went to her and wasted her time.  
  
I stumbled as I got up and went to sit beneath a weeping willow near the gate of the manor. As I plunged through its leaves I felt as I had nearly two years ago, when Mother had died. Then, too, I had sought out a weeping willow to cry under. But then I had had Char to comfort me afterward. And now he was inside the manor, hating me. Or perhaps he wasn't thinking about me at all. I wondered which was worse.  
  
I forced myself to calm down. The tears stopped and I smoothed my dress. I was surprised to find it not noticeably stained or wrinkled, so I decided that I would be fit to return to the dinner without changing outfits. I'd stand along the side of the wall while the guests socialized, and I'd sit far from Char during dinner. I wouldn't look at him. Much.  
  
Standing, I made my way through the tree leaves. Hoping my face was devoid of any sign of distress, I walked back into the manor, through the servant's quarters, and back into the hall. My arrival attracted few stares. Without my brain ordering it, my eyes searched out Char and found him near the open doors leading to the stairs. I remembered when we slid down those stair rails months ago. It had been one of the happiest days I could remember.  
  
Afraid my gaze would draw him to look at me, I averted my eyes as quickly as I realized I was staring.  
  
Determinedly keeping my eyes from flickering towards him, I walked over to the side of the room so I could see where a few couples were dancing. This dinner of Dame Olga's was turning out to be much larger than I had expected. Apparently, she had hired a string quartet that was playing a lively gavotte and had invited much more guests than I had thought. It appeared that everyone who held any sort of status in Frell was here, and some from the bordering towns. It was probably because Char was here, and still without a wife. I wondered if he'd made his proclamation not to marry public. I wondered if he'd changed his mind, or if his parents had changed his mind for him, or if he still held true to that same sentiment.  
  
Not that it mattered.  
  
I saw Sir Giles attempt to make eye contact with me from across the room and edged along the wall to make it harder for him to reach me. He seemed to think that I wanted him to follow me, and made his way along the wall of the room and closer to where I was. I groaned inwardly. What would this look like to Char?  
  
I stepped out of the hall and leaned against the opposite wall. I could see Char, looking bored to tears. I wondered if anyone but me noticed the way his arms and back were tense, as they always were when he was uninterested. I wondered if anyone but me noticed the way his eyes subtly darted towards the doors, as if waiting for the moment when he could make a quick escape.  
  
"We meet again, Eleanor."  
  
It was Sir Giles. I quickly looked at Char again to see if he'd noticed the old man following me. He was staring right at me, and for a moment I noticed a bit of regret that was quickly hidden as he nodded curtly at me. I stifled tears and turned back to Sir Giles.  
  
"Your father is over there, if you were looking for him," he said, gesturing towards an appetizer table.  
  
I smiled falsely. "Thank you, Sir Giles. I must have missed him."  
  
He leered in response.  
  
Talking to Father had to be better than talking to Sir Giles. I offered another smile to the man and made my way across the room – avoiding Char or any potential dance partners at all costs – and towards Father.  
  
"Daughter. It is good to see you," he said. Always formal. Mother wouldn't have acted like that.  
  
"It is good to see you as well. I missed you while you were away."  
  
He smiled fleetingly.  
  
"Forgive me, Duchess, for not introducing my daughter earlier," Father said. "This is Eleanor. Eleanor, this is Duchess Jacy of Litton, in Ayorthia.  
  
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," she said, dropping a curtsy.  
  
I curtsied as well. "You as well, Duchess."  
  
"Please, call me Jacy, dear. I see no use for titles."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I was just passing through Frell when I overtook your father on the road," she explained to me. "He asked that I rest in his manor and attend dinner. Though I must say, I wasn't anticipating a dinner quite this large. I would have worn better clothes."  
  
She adjusted a ruffle on her already quite elegant clothing. I tried to look interested.  
  
"You speak Kyrrian quite well," I complemented. The longer I kept up conversation here, the more I could put off any discussion with Sir Giles. "I hear no accent at all."  
  
"Thank you," she said warmly. "It took me several years of schooling to get it correct."  
  
"I've always had a fondness for languages," I continued.  
  
"My Eleanor spends far too much time in books," he said, putting a fatherly hand on my shoulder. Spent too much time around books? Hardly. I read my magic book and studied from my languages dictionary when I could, but I barely had time for excessive reading.  
  
Jacy chuckled. "I was the same way at her age. I had a fondness for the foreign tongues."  
  
"Me as well," I said, become slightly more interested.  
  
"The Elvish language was always my favorite. Speak Elfian?"  
  
"_Yun gar_," I said. "But I mainly speak Ogrese and Ayorthian."  
  
Jacy smiled. "_Dess bello_. That's wonderful. We'll have to speak together sometime."  
  
This time my smile was genuine. "What better time than now?"  
  
She smiled again. "_Ubensu utyu_," she said in Ayorthian. "You're right."  
  
Perhaps this dinner wouldn't be so horrible after all.  
  
I felt an elbow knock into my back and I turned to see Char, standing right behind me. Looking right at me. Noticing me. The fact that he remembered everything about me was all too apparent.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lady Eleanor," he said courteously. He gave me a deep bow and his hair fell a bit out of place. I longed to right it.  
  
"No apology is necessary," I breathed. It took a moment to realize that I had moved a bit closer to him than was necessary. I stepped back quickly, dazed by his proximity.  
  
He nodded and turned again to continue talking to one of the knights that had accompanied him. I couldn't help but sigh at the fact that we'd touched again.  
  
Jacy cleared her throat. I looked back at her, hoping I didn't look too love struck.  
  
"_Utyu ubensu evtame_ _Prince Charmont_?" she asked. "Do you like Prince Charmont?"  
  
"He is my prince," I said. "I both like and admire him." I also love him. But I wasn't about to proclaim that. At least not aloud.  
  
"_Abensa ese_," she said. "I see."  
  
I hoped she'd drop the subject, or this would turn out to be as horrible as I'd originally thought.

* * *

At the actual dinner, I was seated next to Sir Giles. I wondered who's doing that was. No matter who was responsible, I was still displeased.  
  
Father was at the head of the table with Dame Olga at his right and Char at his left. Char sat next to his knight. My stepmother sat next to Hattie (I was quite sure Hattie's seating close to Char had been arranged) and Olive sat between Hattie and me. Jacy was at the other end of the table, leaving me without anyone near me to give any sort of comfort.  
  
Char was seated all too close.  
  
A curse and a blessing.  
  
Dinner progressed without any abnormalities. It was a four course meal, and I ate as grotesquely as I could to try to put off Sir Giles.  
  
Sir Giles didn't appear to notice my eating, but Char the majority the family did. Father glared at me from time to time, trying to subtly get me to stop. Dame Olga looked pleased, perhaps because she thought it made her daughters look better.  
  
It didn't.  
  
Olive and Hattie were far too interested in their meals to notice any conversation until after they had finished. They each had three helpings of every course. Except Olive, who had four helpings of the second. I imagined that my own eating paled in comparison.  
  
Char ignored me the entire meal, going back to pretending I didn't exist. I tried to do the same, but found myself looking at him whenever I didn't think he'd detect it.  
  
Sir Giles quietly tried to make conversation with me, and I again managed to avoid any real tête-à-tête by filling my mouth with food.  
  
Overall, the meal was uneventful. The guests all adjourned to the sitting room and the hall, where there were post-meal drinks and small talk. I sat on the edge of the room and watched as the guests slowly left. Jacy came to bid me goodbye, assuring me that she'd stop by the manor if ever she passed through Frell again. Sir Giles left with the same sentiment, although I was far less pleased when hearing it from his mouth.  
  
"Not quite as charming as I would have liked," Father muttered to me after Sir Giles had gone.  
  
"He's far too old," I said, not meeting his eyes.  
  
"He's very rich. You'd do well to give him the time of day."  
  
I caught a glimpse of Char saying a polite goodbye to Dame Olga. Luckily, he seemed to have told her to relay his goodbye too Father, because he and his knight left moments afterward. My breath caught in my throat to see him go. When would I see him next? Would I even see him again?  
  
"...interested in you," Father's voice drifted back into my ears after a momentary lapse. "And if you continue to insist upon acting like a child- "  
  
"He's older than you are, Father. I refuse-"  
  
"It isn't your choice, Eleanor," Father said, his voice subtle yet sharp.  
  
I sensed that if I continued this conversation, I would find that any choice I still had to make would be taken from me. I stood, but Father grasped my wrist.  
  
"Eleanor..." he warned. My eyes locked with his. "I'm afraid you do not understand the severity of this situation. Do you wish to remain a scullery maid in your own home forever?"  
  
His grip didn't loosen. "No, Father, I do not."  
  
"I may have evaded an immediately negative consequence to my actions, but you have yet to find a way out of the hole you are in. I suggest you pay a call to Sir Giles tomorrow," his hold lessened and his eyes narrowed as if to add: 'or else'.  
  
I left quickly and without response. A rejoinder may had resulted in a command, and that was the last thing I wanted.

* * *

"All in all, it didn't seem that horrible," Gareth said.  
  
I had related the details of the ball to him, omitting, of course, anything having to do with my discomfort around Char. The worst part.  
  
"I suppose not," I lied.  
  
"Well, you can be happy now that it's over," Gareth said. "No more dreading it."  
  
"Yes," I said blandly. "Now I can quite dreading that dinner and start dreading the next."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "How do you even know a simple scullery maid such as yourself will be invited to a big important dinner party?"  
  
I raised my eyebrows and brought myself to full height and girth. "A simple scullery maid? I think not. While you may be a lowly shoemaker's apprentice, I happen to be Lady Ella of Frell, daughter of Sir Peter of Frell and-"  
  
Gareth laughed good-naturedly. "You're such an ass, Ella."  
  
I put my hands on my hips. "How dare you call a Lady such a thing!" I exclaimed in mock-anger.  
  
He bowed and took my hand to give it a quick kiss. "I apologize, my Lady. I did not mean to offend."  
  
"Yes you did," I said, reverting back to myself.  
  
He grinned. "Well, perhaps I did, a bit. What are you going to do about it?"  
  
I grinned back and pulled my hand back, thinking to give him a shove. He grabbed my arm and held it.  
  
"I didn't think a Lady would resort to using physical means to get revenge."  
  
I tilted my chin up. "Me? A Lady?" I pulled my arm from his grasp. He let me. Our eyes locked, I moved a few inches closer to him, unable to stop the grin, put both palms on his chest, and pushed him into the stream. "Hardly."  
  
The stream went up to his waist and he gasped from surprise, then burst into more laughter.  
  
"Wretch," he muttered, still laughing. "Couldn't you have at least warned me so I could have removed my shirt before soaking me?"  
  
"And I'm sure you'd have let me push you, then," I retorted.  
  
"Now I'm going to have to change my clothes."  
  
"Poor you."  
  
"Will you hand me that rag sticking out of your apron pocket?" he asked.  
  
"Why?" I asked slowly.  
  
"Because I'd like to dry my hair, if it's all the same to you."  
  
Cautiously, I stepped towards him, rag outstretched. In one motion, he grabbed my hand and the rag and pulled me into the stream with him. Mouth open in shock, I gulped a mouthful of water before surfacing.  
  
"Gullible of you," he said as I resurfaced. "My hair's not even wet."  
  
"Not yet it isn't," I said, cupping my hands to splash water at him. It wetted his hair thoroughly and I smiled with satisfaction. He was smiling broadly at me as he took a somehow dry rag to dry his hair.  
  
"Because I was supposed to be back at the shop in little more than a quarter of an hour ago, I'm going to be the gentleman and back out now," he said.  
  
"Are you saying I win?"  
  
"Since when was this a contest, my Lady?" he returned, stepping smoothly out of the stream and coming to sit on the bank. He was sopping wet. I went to sit beside him, even more wet than he.  
  
"I ought to go back," he said, regaining some seriousness. "I'm in trouble as it is."  
  
"Of course," I said.  
  
He stood and offered me a hand up. "Promise not to push me into the stream again?" I asked.  
  
"Promise."  
  
I took his hand. He feigned an attempt to shove me in, but then helped me stand.  
  
"Tomorrow?" he asked.  
  
"Provided you're not in trouble for being late," I said.  
  
"I won't be."  
  
"Then perhaps we should go somewhere different. Get a change of scenery."  
  
"Whatever you wish," Gareth said.  
  
"Then I'll meet you at the shoemaker's tomorrow," I told him. "At half past noon."  
  
Gareth slipped on his shoes. "I'll be waiting." With a swift smile, he ran off.  
  
The smile stayed in my mind for a moment, but it soon faded to reveal Char's glowing grin. I recalled the lilt of his voice as I made my way slowly back to the manor and to my room, remembered the smooth lines of his face as I changed into my bedclothes. I was disappointed to find no picture of him in my fairy book, but the picture in my mind was solid as I let sleep take me.

* * *

Reference: All of the phrases in a language other than English(/Kyrrian) were taken from the expage site "ellaenchantedstory5" and from my own educated guesses.

A/N: I know that chapter wasn't my best, but I really wanted to get it posted before making everyone wait any longer. I hope everyone enjoyed Char's appearance - rest assured that it won't be the last.  
  
I got a ton of reviews for the last chapter. Thanks so much to babyjayy, Tempest Dragon, super sycoh, awaiting impatient person, independen-and- happy81017, Pennithil, Turwen, angelwings6117, Indil Elondili, Rizz, megan, Tokyobabe2040, Swishy Willow Wand, fantasyfan, cerillion, The Queen of the Pugs, SirGimpalot, Samwise809, Armadrieclya, Bess3, Emma, FrodoFan, RoseGodess9, jemapel, princess, milenium03, princessofhearts, Nightswift, not telling, The Boot Of Many Moods, Mahoro-san, kyadelphi, and all the other anonymous reviewers for reviewing! You guys are the people that keep me wanting to write fanfiction.  
  
RoseGodess9: You said something about me not putting the fairy book in the story. I guess I didn't make it pronounced enough, but I've written in that Ella checks the book nightly, looking for updates and picture of Char.  
  
Fantasyfan: Thanks for pointing about that error! I guess I really don't re-read these chapters as well as I should.  
  
Tokyobabe2040: I'm glad to be keeping you guessing! As for the love triangle and skirmish between Gareth and Char...anything's possible. ;)  
  
Rizz: Lol! I'm guessing you saw the movie. I did too, and I was extremely disappointed. It could have been awesome if they had stayed more faithful to the book. I've always been interested in filmmaking...perhaps I'll have to try a remake in a decade or so. :)  
  
angelwings6117: I'm so glad you like Gareth! I was really worried about writing him in; I though everyone would hate him. You've got some good ideas, by the way.  
  
super sycoh: Definitely not a bad thing that you like Gareth better than Char. I like him better myself.  
  
Next Chapter: To tell the truth, I'm not 100% sure of which way to go with the next chapter. I have two clearly defined ways to go with the plot and have yet to decide between them. So, the next chapter will be pivotal in the direction of the plot (though it may not seem like it). That's about all I can say for now. And I'm afraid that it may take just as long to post as this chapter did. The AP Exams are over (thankfully), but now there are Regents to study for. What fun. Still, the more motivation you guys give me, the more I may be persuaded to write in my free time.


	7. Shadow And A Silhouette

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! You guys blow me away with the amount of them every time a post a new chapter. Sorry for taking this long (again). You deserve an author who posts more often, but this is the best I can do.  
  
Oh, and I've upped the rating to PG-13 because of increasingly adult themes.  
  
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

  
  
Call It A Gift  
  
By Blackberry Ink  
  
Chapter Six: Shadow And A Silhouette

* * *

I don't mind falling down and scraping up my knees  
  
Scars and stitches always fade and only strengthen me  
  
But with my eyes as wide as pearls  
  
My only centerpiece  
  
Is taken like a dead man's urn and tossed into the sea  
  
Write me like a letter  
  
And dot your I's and cross you T's  
  
Nothing was everything to me  
  
Under the monsters claws and in between his teeth  
  
Was the shadow and a silhouette of what I'd thought I'd be?  
  
- Guster – Scars and Stitches

* * *

I went to the shoemakers at half past noon to meet Gareth, as promised. I found him behind the counter pounding at something with a mallet. He must have noticed my presence without seeing me, because he stopped working and looked up at me.  
  
"Hello," he said, grinning widely.  
  
"Hello," I said, just as amicably.  
  
He reached behind his back, untied his working apron, and hung it up on a peg on the wall. He cleaned his hands off with a rag and hung that on another peg.  
  
"Where did you want to take me?" he asked.  
  
"Have you ever been to the Magical Menagerie?"  
  
He shook his head. "Is it nice?"  
  
I nodded. "I grew up going there countless times. With my mother and with-" Char, I added silently. "-Mandy."  
  
He'd noticed my hesitation, but said nothing and smiled again.  
  
"We don't have to be gone long, if you need to get back here."  
  
"Oh, he won't notice I'm gone," Gareth said. "We can spend as much time as we want."  
  
"Good," I said. "If you've never been there before, I have a lot to show you."  
  
The walk to the menagerie was short. We small talked in the minutes it took to get there, and once we arrived I led him to Simon and the birds.  
  
"Ella!" Simon exclaimed upon seeing me. He bowed and I curtsied. "Long time since I saw you last."  
  
"I've been busy," I explained. "I've missed coming here."  
  
"The birds have missed you as well," Simon said. "I trust Mandy gave you that bird I was sent?"  
  
"Yes," I said, smiling. "Thank you so much for your kindness."  
  
"Oh, lass, it was nothing," Simon returned.  
  
"Say, Ella," Gareth said, stealing my attention the moment he spoke. "Do you know what this one speaking? I can't pick up a word he's saying."  
  
"It's a 'she'," I said. I listened. "And she's speaking Abdegi, language of the-"  
  
"I know Abdegi is giant language," he interrupted. "What do you take me for – someone who's been living under a rock?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Wretch."  
  
Simon moved away from us as other visitors came and Gareth spoke again.  
  
"Mandy tells me you're good with tongues," he commented.  
  
I nodded, forgetting the modesty Manners Mistress had taught me. "I've got a knack for them." I paused, thinking. "When were you talking to Mandy?"  
  
"Yesterday, when you were out getting water or something."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I was looking for you," he said simply.  
  
"Did Mandy mention anything else about me?" I wondered.  
  
"She told me you ruined Dame Olga's dinner last week be putting sugar in the food instead of salt. Mandy had to make the entire meal over."  
  
I groaned. Mandy had been _quite_ angry at that.  
  
Gareth laughed. "You shouldn't have changed it. It would have been funny to see the woman's face when she ate it."  
  
"And then have Mandy fired," I pointed out. "And where would I be?"  
  
"You'd come live with me," Gareth said, as if repeating it from memory. "And I hear Sir Richard is looking for a cook, so Mandy could find a situation there."  
  
I raised my eyebrows. "You seem to have this all planned out."  
  
"I do."  
  
"But it wouldn't work. My father would insist I stay at the manor, and it would only be the worse for me without Mandy there."  
  
"Who says you have to do what your father tells you?" Gareth stated. "We'll run away – you and me, and Mandy if she's up to it – and go somewhere far. Maybe Ayorthia."  
  
_I could see Areida!_ I thought. Wait. No, I couldn't. The curse would make me hurt her.  
  
"It's a nice idea," I said. "I'll have to think about it."  
  
"I'll be ready to leave in five minutes if you ever want to go," he said. I couldn't tell if he was serious. "Just send word."  
  
I grinned at him. "I shall keep it in mind."

* * *

The weeks following my brief interlude with Char passed quickly. Father left on another trading expedition a few days after he'd returned, causing Dame Olga to spend a fair amount of time locked away in her room pitying herself and only having the breath to shout out orders to me if ever Hattie commanded me to walk past her mother's door.  
  
"It makes her feel better, Ella, seeing that someone is so much worse off than she is," Hattie explained.  
  
"Anything to make Dame Olga feel better," I'd replied acerbically. Hattie didn't pick up on the tone.  
  
It had been four months since the ball and ten since Char's final letter to me. Although the pain of losing him had been resurfaced just over a month ago at Dame Olga's dinner, it was starting to ease up again. I still checked my magic book every night for anything from him, but it had been ages since I'd found anything. It was true that I longed for some word from him (even if it wasn't directed at me), but I was coming to realize that I would have to learn to live without him somehow, and I may as well attempt to start that life now.  
  
Gareth was a help. He didn't make me forget Char – that would be an impossible feat – but he eased the ache immensely. The time I spent around him was a weight lifted off my shoulders.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," I cried as I rushed towards the stream. As I approached I realized that he wasn't in sight. I had been late dozens of times, but he was always here when I arrived, leaning against a tree or sitting with his pants rolled up and his feet in the stream. I felt a pang of disappointment at not seeing him.  
  
"Gareth?" I called. "Are you here?"  
  
I walked a short distance in both directions, searching behind the tree and bushes. I tiptoed across the log stretched across the stream to cross it and didn't see him. I crossed back and frowned. I'd done this to him far too many times for my discontent to be validated, but I was unhappy nonetheless.  
  
I decided to sit against the tree and wait a bit for him. Perhaps he'd come. I sat down and smoothed out my dress, leaning backwards and feeling knots on the tree dig into my back. How did he always manage to sit like this and look so utterly –  
  
"Hello." Someone grabbed my shoulders and I jumped as I emitted an uncharacteristic shriek. I turned and saw Gareth, grinning cockily at my fright.  
  
"Hello," I greeted him, regaining my calm and hitting him lightly on the shoulder as he laughed. "You shouldn't have scared me like that!"  
  
"I could not resist, my Lady," he said, standing and bowing. "I truly apologize for any discomfort or-"  
  
"Shut it," I retorted.  
  
He grinned hopefully. "It's good to see you."  
  
"You say that every day," I told him.  
  
"Well, every day it's true," he said.  
  
I was shocked for a moment by his sincerity but regained composure quickly. "I can't stay long. There's a guest for dinner tonight and Mandy's cooking something special."  
  
"No matter," Gareth said, moving his hands as if brushing it off. "I should probably get back early as well. My sister's in town."  
  
"Your sister's here? And you left her to see _me_?"  
  
"Well, yes," Gareth said, looking shifty. "She's rather irritating, at that. Can't stand the woman. And she insists I spend the next few days in her stench-ridden presence."  
  
I laughed. "Is she older?"  
  
"Yes, much. I don't see why she bothers with me. She never used to."  
  
"Well, you only lived with her until you were eight," I pointed out. "I don't blame her. Then again, you can hardly blame her now, can you? I should know, I put up with you every day."  
  
He smirked. "That's a good point, I suppose. She was fifteen when I was born and married to a butcher's son when I was three."  
  
"So you must not even remember her."  
  
He shrugged. "She lived nearby. I hated her visits."  
  
"And after you ran away, how did she hear you were here in Frell?"  
  
He shrugged again and threw a pebble into the stream. I was surprised at how alone he looked. "I'm not sure. I never tried to keep in contact with my family. They were rotten, the lot of them. But my sister came to visit two years ago; I made her promise not to tell anyone where I was. Hope she kept it."  
  
I hoped so too, for his sake. I glanced at the sun – it was nearly one in the afternoon. "I'd better get back to help Mandy."  
  
He nodded, not quite looking at me. "I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Yes," I said. "Hopefully Dame Olga's guest won't keep me."  
  
"And Ella?" he added as I turned to leave. "If I'm not here, I'll be at the shop, being strangled by my sister. So you know where to find me."  
  
I smiled and nodded. "I'll be sure to rescue you from her if I don't see you here."  
  
"You'll be my knight in shining armor, then?" Gareth asked, fluttering his eyelashes and putting his hand to his heart.  
  
I bowed. "Of course, fair Lady."  
  
I could hear him laughing as I left. I was laughing too.

* * *

"Mum says hurry up." It was Olive. She stared at me with wide eyes.  
  
"Of course, madam," Mandy said. "But the guest has yet to-"  
  
"A man just got here. Hurry up, Ella."  
  
I wanted to slap her. I'd spent too much time with Gareth earlier and I was hurrying enough as it was, and now her order would make me have to go faster.  
  
"Tell Dame Olga we're nearly ready to serve it," I said, using a cloth to wipe sweat off my brow that was part from exertion, part from the heat of standing beside the oven on a warm day in March.  
  
Olive shot us a scowl that would have done her mother and sisters proud and left us.  
  
"I should have asked who the guest is," I muttered to Mandy after Olive was gone.  
  
"Probably another man she'd like to court Hattie, is all." She finished stirring a pudding and put it into a finer bowl for serving.  
  
"Or perhaps to court Olive," I put in.  
  
"No," Mandy said. "Dame Olga wouldn't let plain Olive be married before her Hattie was. Here, give this to Nancy to bring to the table."  
  
I took the bowl of pudding and nearly ran into Nancy just outside the kitchen door. I thrust the bowl into her hands quickly to stop my head from hurting at not obeying. She wobbled a little and I noticed she was already carrying four things.  
  
"You take it," she said, holding her arm out so I could relieve her. I took it and walked to the dining room, albeit nervously. What if the guest was vile and ordered me to do things I'd rather not do?  
  
The moment I entered the room Dame Olga stood up, to my immense surprise. She made a strangled sort of noise and waved her arm to tell me to get out. Nancy followed into the dining room right behind me, shooting me a curious look as I let her pass. When she came back out, she had a message for me.  
  
"Dame Olga sends her anger," Nancy relayed. "She is wondering why you are not at the table with them."  
  
I must have looked puzzled, because she elaborated. "Your father has invited a certain Sir Giles to come and-"  
  
"That loathsome-" I began  
  
"-you were supposed to get the message to dress for the occasion. He is here for you."  
  
I wanted to leave the manor, find my father, and kill him. How dare he try to match me up with Sir _Giles_! He knew I hated him!  
  
Nancy interrupted my thoughts. "You'd best get readied quickly. Dame Olga already looks like she's on the warpath. I imagine it took a lot for your father to convince her to have a man over here for you."  
  
"I wish he hadn't bothered," I said agitatedly.  
  
"Go get ready," Nancy said, probably unaware she was ordering me. "It will be worse for you if you don't. I'll cover for you what I can."  
  
I put a hand to my stomach because of the queasy feeling I was getting from standing there, then went to do Nancy's bidding. I only bothered to wash my face with some water and a cloth, then used my fingers to brush my hair. Only then I realized that I had nothing fine to wear, so I changed into my only clean dress. It was hardly something Dame Olga would want at her table, but I had no choice. I couldn't wear something of Hattie's without having to pay dearly later (even if it had once been mine) and she always kept her door locked when she wasn't inside, at any rate.  
  
I entered the dining room smiling curtly and smoothing my dress. Dame Olga looked murderous.  
  
"I'll have another wine, please," Sir Giles said to me.  
  
Dame Olga let out a fluttery laugh. "You're too funny, Sir Giles. This is Eleanor, my stepdaughter. Sit next to Sir Giles, Eleanor."  
  
"Of course," I said graciously to her as she glared.  
  
"Ah, I remember you," Sir Giles said. His face was red. Perhaps he'd already had too much wine to be irritated at my dress. "The lovely lass from Sir Peter's dinner all those weeks ago."  
  
I nodded tightly and jumped a bit as I felt a hand on my knee. I edged away from him, but he closed the space.  
  
"Lovely Eleanor," he leered.  
  
"Have you seen my new necklace?" Hattie interrupted. She was trying to get his attention to herself. Was she mad? He must be richer than I'd thought.  
  
Still, he ignored her in favor of attempting to grope my thigh. I tried to move further from his wandering hand.  
  
"Stop squirming, Eleanor," Dame Olga ordered. I stopped reluctantly and Sir Giles grinned.  
  
Luckily, Nancy brought out more food at that time and his attention was taken from me for a moment as he asked Nancy to pour him more wine. She shot me a sympathetic look and left. There was nothing she could do for me without losing her place.  
  
I didn't speak unless spoken to the entire dinner.  
  
When the meal was over, I complained of a bad stomachache and was allowed to retreat to the safety of the kitchens. Mandy was there, scrubbing at the silverware, and I ran to her and gave her a hug. She seemed to sense what was wrong, as she always did, and I didn't have to explain. I refused to cry.  
  
"Shh, Lady," Mandy murmured. "It's alright."  
  
I shook my head into her shoulder as she rubbed my back. Eventually, her calming tones soothed me, and I refused as she insisted that I go so sleep in favor of helping her clean the rest of the kitchen. After, I went to my room, put on nightclothes, and pulled out my magic book.  
  
I skimmed through it looking for something that caught my eye, and settled on a story called _The Goose Girl_ when I found nothing to do with Char. I couldn't focus on the tale. My mind was too taken over by dinner, Sir Giles's itinerant hand and foul breath, and worry over what my father would have in store for me next.  
  
My sleep that night was uneasy, and I woke the next morning unrested and dreading tomorrow.

* * *

The day after dinner with Sir Giles, Dame Olga called me to her room. After procrastinating as much as possible, I went.  
  
"I am appalled," she said as I entered. "Close the door," she added as an afterthought. I closed one but not the other, and it took a minute until both were closed to her liking.  
  
"That you could behave so _rudely_ in front of me and embarrass me so. You know very well that you do not deserve the kindness I show you. You don't show me nearly enough gratitude."  
  
_This is nonsense_, I thought. _She's bound to stop the accusatory sentiments and start ordering me soon._ "To show up to a dinner at my table wearing nothing but your filthy maid's garb? Disgusting."  
  
"She has nothing else, Mama." It was then that I first noticed Hattie sitting on the other side of the room, gazing at herself in the mirror as she tried on her mother's jewels. "We should pity her."  
  
Dame Olga smiled at her eldest daughter. "Always the kindhearted one, Hattie," she said. I laughed derisively but no one seemed to notice.  
  
She turned back to me, her face hardening. "Ella, I expect no less than perfect behavior from you. From now on, you will not leave the manor. You will not go outside unless specifically asked to by Hattie or me. In this way, you will become more disciplined," she explained, as though I were a child and not nearly seventeen. I tried to keep from crying out at the unfairness of it.  
  
"And," Hattie added. "You will be given one dress to wear for dinners, so that you do not disgrace our table as much as you did last night. Do not dirty it."  
  
"You may need it often," Dame Olga said, her large nose pointed upwards. "Sir Peter is considering Sir Giles's request to court you."  
  
I blanched. Now I really _would_ kill my father. If I was ever able to leave the manor again, that was.  
  
"Go now," Dame Olga finished, walking over to Hattie. I left as they were both staring at themselves in the mirror, gloating. Quite the double act, those two. It took nearly all of my strength to keep from slamming the door and kicking it shut on my way out.  
  
In an almost shocked state, I went downstairs and told Mandy the news.  
  
"How am I going to get out of this?" I said despairingly.  
  
"I don't know yet, Lady," she replied. "But we'll think of something."  
  
"They're the only ones that can command me to leave. And the chance of them doing that is very slight."  
  
"There's still a chance," Mandy said. "And there has to be another way to get out of it."  
  
I looked at the sky outside. It was noon. I should be meeting Gareth, but instead I was stuck inside, wishing for a better life.

* * *

For the next several weeks, I watched spring bloom through the kitchen windows. It was mid-May and I had been outside only a handful of times, usually to get water. The curse forced me not to linger. I felt myself becoming pale.  
  
The worst hours were at noon, when I stared at the sun, wishing I could be meeting Gareth instead of being cooped up inside. There was always the small hope that he'd somehow get to the kitchens to see me, but Dame Olga had placed her footmen at the entrance to the manor, telling them not to let anyone suspicious looking inside.  
  
The worst days were the days when Sir Giles visited, and I was forced to sit at his right side, not talking, not eating, and having to let him breath down my neck and rest his hands on my legs because Dame Olga would order be not to move away. Some of those days I'd cry silently, and brush away the tears before anyone could see them. They mustn't see me weak.  
  
The worst nights were the nights when I looked in my magic book to find no comforting image of Char's face, no soothing message written by his hand. Those nights, I slept restlessly and woke up with dark patches underneath my eyes. Those nights were most nights.  
  
Mandy constantly told me things would get better soon, but they didn't. She'd tried ordering me to go outside, but it didn't work. I could only go out when Dame Olga or Hattie ordered me to.  
  
I had never felt as alone as I felt during those weeks. I had Mandy, yes, but for the first time I felt like having Mandy with her small magic and kind words wasn't enough.  
  
"Nathan's just gone in to town," Mandy told me one morning. "The mail carrier has just arrived."  
  
"Perhaps a letter from Father."  
  
Mandy nodded. "I wouldn't normally like to say it, but it would be good if he came home. He could stop this order."  
  
"I can hope."  
  
Nathan came back an hour later, carrying two letters. He brought them both straight to Dame Olga before saying anything to anyone. After delivering them, be came back down and entered the kitchen.  
  
He tapped me on the shoulder. "Here," he said. "From Sir Peter. I didn't think Dame Olga would want to see it."  
  
I smiled and thanked him, then opened it and gave it to Mandy to read first, for fear of him ordering me through the letter.  
  
Mandy read it quickly, her eyes darting down the page. She looked at the parchment in distain, then crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the fire.  
  
I looked at Mandy in alarm. "What did it say?"  
  
She went back to her stirring. "Your father," she huffed. "Is _not_ a good man, no matter what Lady used to say."

* * *

A/N: Thanks everyone for being so patient in waiting for this chapter. Sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger and for making it so short, but it seemed like a good place to end it.  
  
Thanks to Babyjayy, EllaFreak, awaiting impatient person, Carissa, Tempest Dragon, Leigh A. Sumpter, Tindomiel-PA, Armadrieclya, Lady Emma, Samwise809, LOTR-nutcase, illilac, independen-and-happy81017, Indil Elondili, 896976, jkjkk, princessofhearts, not telling so stop asking, Star Fighter Heart, ShoppingChick, arientindomerel, singinstrawberri, Nightswift, The Queen of the Pugs, kkroonie, RoseGodess9, Arwen Veancawen, LMDGlUVR4EVA, Swishy Willow Wand, kittykatekat, and Tiennan for the reviews.  
  
super sycoh: Half naked Gareth? That may have just given me some ideas for future chapters...  
  
Turwen: Take Gareth for yourself? Not if I take him first. ;)  
  
fantasyfan: Yeah, I'd wanted more to happen at the dinner, but I ended up cutting about five pages of it that I decided to use later on. As for using both directions...I don't know. But I might write another story that stems from the idea I'm not using.  
  
Lady Emma: Thanks, I needed it. :)  
  
Rosina: Oh, I see what you mean. I must have misinterpreted your last review. I've been meaning to do that for a while, but it never fit in. Probably next chapter.  
  
Dulcis Caelum: lol, I'd definitely join if you started that FAWNU thing you were talking about. Just send me the badge.  
  
Also, a million thanks to everyone who sent me get well soon type stuff. I appreciate it. After a month and a half of some sort of illness (they never told me exactly what), I'm healthy again. :)  
  
Next Chapter: clears throat Umm, I'm going to be away at Duke for the next two weeks, so I won't be able to post. avoids large tomatoes that are thrown at her But it's a writing camp, so hopefully I'll have time to write the chapter so I can type and post it once I get home.  
  
Next chapter you'll find out what was on the letter, and a few ideas made just in passing may become more than what they'd seemed. And perhaps an appearance from an old character.


	8. Handle On A Reason

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.  
  
A/N: coughs, clears throat Yes, I am, in fact, alive. I know it's been almost a month since the last chapter, and I'm sorry about that. I got back from North Carolina a week ago and my muse for fanfiction was gone completely. But, after reading some more reviews, it is now back. So here's the next chapter, finally.  
  
Reminder: Rating is still upped to PG-13, for those of you who didn't get the message.  
  
Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

Call It A Gift  
  
By Blackberry Ink  
  
Chapter Seven: Handle On A Reason

* * *

Thought about

Singing but I couldn't remember all of the words

Breaking but I couldn't get the pieces apart

Laughing never knowing what the joke was about

Now I'm down And I wonder how I ever felt the burn

And I wonder if I'm ever gonna learn

How lonely people make a life

One strain at a time.  
  
_- The Burn_, Matchbox Twenty

* * *

My eyes widened and I saw my chest heaving from breathing so fast. "Mandy," I said. "What did it say?"  
  
Mandy's face was red and her freckles stood out as they always did when she was angry, and she stared at the fire for a moment, watching the flame devour the last remnants of the letter.  
  
"Your father," she said. "He's found you a husband, he says. Found the perfect match, he says. He would like you to be married in three weeks."  
  
I gasped and clutched the counter for support as I felt my knees nearly give way. My breath caught in my throat and my fingers shook against the cool surface of the kitchen.  
  
"Who?" I managed in a tremulous whisper.  
  
Mandy looked at me as though she'd rather spare me this information. But I needed to know. My husband-to-be. I needed to know.  
  
"Sir Giles," she said flatly, eyes locked with mine.  
  
It took all my strength to keep from collapsing to the floor, and I wanted to stand, to show some soft of strength. Because as it was, I felt as though I were going into battle with no shield and only a wooden sword as a weapon. The world was spinning out of my control and I had no means to stop it.  
  
"I won't," I said after a moment of being unable to speak. "I shan't do what he tells me. I'll break the curse, once and for all."  
  
"Oh, I wish it could be so, Lady," Mandy murmured, coming over to me and rubbing her hand in circles on my back. "I wish it could be so."  
  
I stepped away from her, strides showing false confidence. "It can be so! All this time I have wanted to break it, and never have I been able to. But this time is different. Never has something so dreadful been commanded of me."  
  
Mandy's eyes were shining and she rubbed her nose. I felt my eyes fill with tears as well. Sir Giles, my husband in less than a month. It was much worse this time as compared to when I had thought I was betrothed to the Earl of Wolleck. Then at least I had been blissful about it. The knowledge was better when I didn't feel the danger and hurt of it.  
  
But it was better I knew in my right mind. It was better because this way, there was a possibility that I could find a way out of it. And I would find a way out of it, somehow.  
  
"Will you leave with me, Mandy?" I asked her. "We'll steal away in the night, find work as cooks. We could-"  
  
"I would, Lady, but you can't leave. Not without Dame Olga or her daughters ordering it."  
  
"Not daughters," I said. "Just Hattie. Olive wasn't a part of the order Dame Olga made." It would have been easier if she had. I might have been able to trick Olive into ordering me out of the house, but not her mother or sister.  
  
"Your father returns in a week," Mandy said. "Or so he wrote. We needn't tell anyone else of the betrothal until then. And when he comes back to the manor, you can get him to take the order off."  
  
"It won't matter if he permits me outside," I said.  
  
"Then you must find a way to have him tell his wife to do it. She'll listen to him. And I'm sure you can convince Sir Peter, Lady."  
  
I began washing the dirty bowl Mandy had been using. "I hate him," I announced.  
  
I had never seen Mandy's eyes so filled with sadness as that moment, and I was glad that, for once, she didn't tell me off for hating someone. Because, I supposed, she hated him too.

* * *

I stayed in the kitchens as long as I could that night, because the more work I had the less time for thought. Thought would only anger me at the moment. It was best not to think.  
  
Evening was nearly giving way to night as I walked the familiar path to my room, and I opened the door quietly so it wouldn't creak. The moment I stepped inside, I felt a hand covering my mouth, stopping me from crying out. The room was dark but for the moonlight streaming in the small, high window. I lashed out with my foot to kick my attacker in the shin and he let out a small yelp and fell backwards, bringing me with him and somehow managing to keep his hand over my mouth. I bit his hand.  
  
"Ella, _Ella_!" he said in a hasty whisper, cradling the hand I'd bitten. I felt the muscles of his chest against my stomach flex slightly as he rolled off of me and stepped gingerly with his slightly wounded leg over to sit on my bed. "It's me, you ass."  
  
I gasped. "Gareth?"  
  
"That's me."  
  
I hurried to sit beside him on the bed and impulsively reached out and wrapped my arms around his waist for a moment, breathing in the outdoors and leather scent of him. I had never hugged a man before. But it was so good to see him.  
  
"Easy, Ella," he said. But he took my hand and squeezed it. "Not while I'm wounded."  
  
I turned his hand over so I could see the other side of it. His hands were rough and calloused from work, much more than Char's had been. I blinked at thinking of Char. I hadn't thought of him in a while. "I'm so sorry, Gareth, I didn't know who you were."  
  
"I've got bite marks on my palm, you know. And saliva." He reached over and wiped it on my sleeve. "Appalling for someone of your class to resort to biting. How Neanderthal."  
  
I smiled. He was just how I remembered him. "Never let it be said that all ladies don't know how to fight."  
  
"You call that fighting. I call it cannibalism."  
  
"I only bit you."  
  
"You might have torn my flesh. And after you tasted my flesh, you might have wanted more. And then you would have been no better than a mere animal."  
  
I laughed. "That's ridiculous."  
  
He laughed too. "Perhaps."  
  
I laughed for as long as I could, because it was good to laugh after the news I had received this morning. When we stopped, I said, "Did I hurt your leg as well?"  
  
He brought his foot up to rest on my lap. I raised my eyebrows at the motion but he didn't make to move his position. "I'll be bruised for weeks," he said.  
  
"It's not all that bad. Just slightly blue."  
  
"And purple."  
  
"Well, you deserved it, sneaking into my room. How did you find it, at any rate?"  
  
"That day we met, do you remember it?" I nodded and he continued. "You went to your room once, and I followed. I was going to startle you, but I turned back just as you opened your door."  
  
"Decided against it?"  
  
"I thought it wouldn't be nice."  
  
"You're too considerate, Gareth."  
  
"I do try."  
  
I settled myself more on the bed and looked back up at him. "What have you been doing the past month and a half?"  
  
He put his foot down from my lap. "What have _I_ been doing? I, who had been trying to get around the guards at the gate to your manor for over a month so I could see you? I, who waited for you to come visit me when you stayed at home?"  
  
I frowned. "Gareth, they've kept me in here. They've kept me inside and I wasn't allowed to leave and-"  
  
He reached out and put a finger to my lips. I silenced quickly. "I know," he said, suddenly serious.  
  
"I'm not allowed outside," I said. "Dame Olga won't allow it. I can't sneak out, they catch me." The curse catches me.  
  
"We'll do something," he said. "I snuck in this once, I can do it again."  
  
"How did you do it in the first place?"  
  
He grinned. "I – accidentally, of course – left a large bottle of rum near the gate. I saw them laying on the ground half an hour later, piss drunk."  
  
"It took you a month to think of that?"  
  
"It took me a month to get the key to the shoemaker's stores. He's got a lot of alcohol down there. He won't miss a few bottles."  
  
"You'll lose your apprenticeship if he finds you out," I said.  
  
He shrugged. "But at least I'll have gotten to see you."  
  
I smiled again at his frankness. I couldn't remember anyone ever being so open with me.  
  
"You can leave with me, you know," he said after a long pause. "Pack quickly and we'll leave tonight."  
  
I shook my head. The curse wouldn't allow it. "My Father is due home in a week. Then everything can go back to normal."  
  
He looked doubtful, but nodded. "What can you do until then?"  
  
"Bear it," I said. "I've lasted six weeks, I can last another."  
  
"Alright," he said.  
  
"You should go," I said, even though it was the last thing I wanted after missing him for all that time. But night had truly fallen now and every moment longer he stayed made it harder for him to get back to the shoemaker's. Things worse than thieves and bandits roamed the streets as it got later.  
  
He nodded again. "You're probably right. But I don't like to leave you like this. Are you sure you'll be fine?"  
  
"Quite sure," I lied. I could tell he knew I was lying but pretended otherwise.  
  
"I'll come tomorrow, if I can," he said. "I'll get another bottle of rum once I get back, while Mr. Stevenson's still asleep."  
  
"I'll come back here as early as I can, so I can wait for you."  
  
We were silent again for another minute, and I heard loud footsteps coming in this direction. I looked at Gareth – he'd heard it too.  
  
"Hide under the bed," I whispered needlessly. He was already moving towards it. I was suddenly aware of what people would think if they saw a man alone with me in here. The chance of a servant coming to my door was slim, but plausible. Nancy had come before, asking for help with Tristan, who still stayed with her. And perhaps Dame Olga or one of her daughters would come looking for me. It hadn't happened before, but suddenly I felt nervous. I looked back to make sure Gareth wasn't visible.  
  
There was a knock at the door. I couldn't help but jump slightly.  
  
"Ella, are you in there?"  
  
A familiar voice. It was Nathan, the manservant.  
  
"Yes," I called back.  
  
"Don't come out if you're not decent," he returned. "But if you are- "  
  
I quickly stepped out and closed the door before he could get a good look inside.  
  
"Ah," he said. "Well, then. I'll tell Bertha it was nothing."  
  
I furrowed my brow. "What was nothing?"  
  
"She thought she heard voices from your room and asked me to knock and see. I don't know why she didn't just come herself. But I'll just tell her she was hearing things. She was hearing things, yes?"  
  
"Yes," I said, a bit too quickly. "Of course she was hearing things."  
  
Nathan lifted his eyebrows, questioning, but I didn't respond to it.  
  
"Good night, then, Ella," Nathan said.  
  
"Good night," I said, standing in front of the door, waiting for him to turn the corner before I dared to slip inside.  
  
Gareth sat on my bed, grinning broadly.  
  
"What are you doing there?" I said in an undertone. "Imagine if I hadn't been alone walking in."  
  
"I heard you through the door," he said. "I knew it was only you."  
  
"Shh!" I murmured. "Whisper." I shook my head but went to sit next to him again.  
  
"What are you going to do now?" I asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, you can't exactly leave, can you? Bertha seems to have heard us talking and she'll be listening for you if you go."  
  
"I could go out the window."  
  
"The guards."  
  
"They're drunk."  
  
"It's past midnight," I said. "There are new guards for the next few hours."  
  
He shrugged. "I can get by them."  
  
"I don't-"  
  
"Come on, Ella," Gareth said. "It's not as if you want me to stay here the night, is it?"  
  
I opened my mouth to say something and closed it. Of course I didn't want him to stay. There would be no place for him to sleep besides the floor. Besides that, what would someone think should they see him come morning? My mouth opened again to refuse the idea but shut again before I spoke.  
  
Gareth's eyes widened for a moment before he spoke for me. "I'll go now. Out the window. I can get around gate guards again, like I told you."  
  
I nodded slowly. "Be careful."  
  
He raised his eyebrows. "When am I ever not careful?"  
  
I smiled, glad the normal atmosphere between us was back. He stood and went to the high window, quietly pushing it open. He turned back to look at me, suddenly serious.  
  
"Are you sure you'll be alright?"  
  
I smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure."  
  
He started to close the window. "I don't want to-"  
  
I stood and pushed the window back open. "Go. Before someone sees you."  
  
"I-"  
  
I gave him as stern a look as I could manage. "If you don't leave, Gareth, I'll-"  
  
And suddenly, before I could comprehend what he was doing, he leaned down and closed the space between us. I found myself without words again. His breath warmed my face and his eyes locked with mine. He reached out with the hand that wasn't holding the window open and used the pad of his thumb rub circles on my cheek. I swallowed.  
  
"Are you really sure you're alright?" he whispered.  
  
I nodded mutely. My arms stayed still as though nailed to my sides and my knees locked under me.  
  
He smiled a half-smile and left his hand lingering a moment before drawing it away from my face and putting more distance between us. "How foolish of me," he murmured. "To think you'd ever not be able to take care of yourself, Ella."  
  
He used both arms to push himself up and out of the window. He turned back again before closing it.  
  
"I'll miss you," he said.  
  
Another moment before I could find my voice. "Hurry and get out of here," I said, not quite meeting his eye. "Before I have to make you."  
  
Without another word, he was gone.

* * *

It was near noon when Hattie woke the next morning. She used the bell, just like her mother, to call me to her chambers. She had been at a cotillion or ball of some sort and longed gloat about it to me.  
  
"I wore that beautiful lavender gown," she said, nodding towards a servant who was just carrying it away to be cleaned. "And I am quite sure that the prince noticed it."  
  
I paused a moment. The prince? Char had been there? "You mean Ch – Prince Charmont?" I flinched at my tone, which betrayed my interest.  
  
Hattie smiled beatifically. "Yes, he was. I had all but given up hope that I would ever be betrothed to him, but ever since seeing him yesterday I am quite sure that the flame between us has been rekindled."  
  
"Ah," I said, both stifling a laugh at the prospect of a flame between Char and Hattie and trying hard not to be jealous that Hattie had been somewhere Char was and I had not.  
  
"I told him I was free for him to call upon me this afternoon," Hattie continued. "So I wouldn't be surprised if he came to the manor a few hours hence."  
  
I hid my grin, thinking of Char coming here to call on Hattie and stopped. That would be Char coming here. Even if the purpose of his visit was to call on someone else, it would be such a joy to see his face again.  
  
I shook the thought out of my head. Char would not call on someone like Hattie. Char would never marry; he'd told me. And it was all my fault. No heir to carry on the family name. Because of a stupid, clumsy girl who couldn't manage to stay out of love.  
  
I rubbed my nose, realizing I hadn't checked my magic book last night for a memento of Char. I'd go back the moment I had a chance and look. I thought back to the night before, wondering why I hadn't remembered my month's old routine.  
  
Gareth. Gareth had been there.  
  
My breath caught again, and I felt dizzy for a moment, though whether because of Char or Gareth or the fact that the room was stifling hot I wasn't sure. It took a moment before I realized Hattie was still talking.  
  
"...the talk of the ball," she said, eyes wide with delight as she stared at herself in the mirror. "They'll all remember me, I'm sure."  
  
"I'm sure they will," I said dutifully.  
  
Hattie sighed and looked at me through the mirror. "You're being a bore, Ella," she said. "Leave."  
  
"Of course," I said, more than happy to oblige.  
  
"But wait a moment," she said.  
  
I stopped going towards the door.  
  
She smiled thinly and tapped her fingertips together. "Should Charmont come to visit me today-"  
  
_Please don't order me to me room_, I hoped fiercely.  
  
"-you will serve us," she said. "And I want you to stay in the clothes you're wearing now as you do so."  
  
I let out my breath and determinedly didn't smile. If I mussed my hair enough and dirtied my face enough, perhaps Char wouldn't recognize me. It had been a long time since we'd seen each other in the flesh. Perhaps he didn't even remember what I looked like.  
  
I knew I doubted this, but I felt more lighthearted as I left the room. Char probably wouldn't come, if he was in his right mind. But there was a chance I'd see him in just a few short hours. And Gareth sometime soon after that, if I was lucky.  
  
For a moment, I felt blessed.

* * *

There was no clock in the kitchen. I looked out the window tensely every moment I could to spot the sun's position in the sky. When it was four hours after noon, I stopped looking. If Char was going to come, he would have come before this time. Just after four o'clock dinner preparations began, and no visited so as to keep from disturbing the household.  
  
A moment later, Nancy came into the kitchen. "Lady Hattie wants you in the sitting room, Ella," she said.  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Yes," Nancy said. "And she says to bring nothing."  
  
I bit my lip to stop from laughing out loud. Char must be here! Hattie would not request my presence otherwise. After Nancy left, I took some soot and rubbed in on my cheeks, suddenly remembering how Gareth's hand had felt there. I regained myself quickly and hurried to the sitting room.  
  
Just as I had thought, there was Char. A thrill ran through me and longed to stay rooted to the spot, for I could stay this way for hours if I was allowed.  
  
"Cinders," Hattie said. "Come."  
  
It took a moment before I could comprehend that Hattie was talking to me, but once I realized it I followed the order. I did not was Char to see me struggle against the curse  
  
"Yes, mistress?" I made my voice a pitch higher. Hattie would just think I had a case of nerves and it would throw Char off.  
  
"I'd like a cup of tea," she said. She looked to Char, eyelashes fluttering. "And would you like anything, Charmont?"  
  
He didn't appear to have heard her. He was staring fixedly at me, eyes narrowed. I blanched. He recognized me. I was a fool to have not made a better disguise.  
  
"Your name is Cinders?" he said.  
  
"Yes, your highness," I said. Despite my fear, it was a wonder to be addressed by him.  
  
"Tell me, have I, perhaps, seen you before? Did you once work in the castle?"  
  
Hattie cut in. "I assure you, no," she said. "Cinders has been working here at the manor her entire life."  
  
But the need to obey was pressing at my chest and at my head and my mouth moved before I could stop it. "Yes, your highness." No, no, he would surely find me out now.  
  
Char's brow furrowed. I longed to trace the lines and make them disappear. "Yes, I have seen you before?"  
  
There was no use taking back my answer now. He'd know I'd lied. "Yes, you've seen me before."  
  
Char now looked lost in thought as he stared at me, and in the face of it all it was so good to have him look at me, even if I was in a state like this.  
  
"Charmont," Hattie interjected shrilly. "Would you like tea as well?"  
  
"Tea?" he said, coming out of his reverie to glance at Hattie for a moment, then look back to me. "Yes, I suppose I'll have a cup, if you're making it."  
  
I nodded and left the room, fighting the longing to turn around for another glance of him at the door with the knowledge that I'd see him again as soon as the tea was brewed, provided Hattie didn't bore him to death with her prattle.  
  
I couldn't calm my hands from shaking as I made the tea; Mandy noticed and came over to do it. I tried sitting but found myself unable to keep still, so I began pacing the length of the kitchen. When the tea was done, I hastily readied two cups and rushed towards the sitting room again.  
  
The moment I walked in his eyes were on me again, and I felt sure this time that he knew who I was. I gave Hattie her drink. I nearly dropped his cup of tea as I offered it to him and he reached out to steady my arm, making me falter even more to have him touch me. A drop spilled over the side and onto his leg as I let it into his hands.  
  
I covered my mouth with my hands. "Char, I'm-" I swallowed at his sharp gaze. I curtsied quickly and pretended I hadn't spoke. "I'm so sorry, your highness."  
  
He brushed off my slip. "It's quite alright. Thank you very much for the tea."  
  
I curtsied again. He took a sip of tea and turned to Hattie, who was looking at me with a predatory glare.  
  
"Lady Hattie, did not one Ella of Frell live here with you?"  
  
Hattie's gaze switched quickly from me to Char. She nodded curtly. "She did, my prince. Why is it that you ask?"  
  
He shrugged. "Curiosity." His voice sounded nonchalant, but I knew him to well. It was more than curiosity.  
  
"She's betrothed, as of now," Hattie said. How did she know? Perhaps she was lying? I blinked. Of course – Father had told Dame Olga in his letter to her."  
  
Char raised his eyebrows, subtly inviting more information. Hattie appeared discomforted that this was the topic of conversation that he seemed to warm most to.  
  
"She shall be married in three weeks to Sir Giles, who was first to be knighted by King Jerrold," she said.  
  
Char's face would have made me laugh was my heart not being wrenched out of my chest knowing that I could not go to him now - to beg forgiveness and beg for him to love me.  
  
"Was she not married before?"  
  
I felt myself go pale. Now he would truly know. Hattie would correct him and all would be lost.  
  
Hattie's brow was furrowed as she shook her head. "No, she was not."  
  
I needed to leave. I slowly turned and began heading for the door. He couldn't see me again; I was a fool to think that I wouldn't be caught in his presence.  
  
"Why is your maid leaving?" I heard Char ask as my hand went to the handle of the door. He looked at the clock. "I've stayed too late – it's nearly dinner. I apologize."  
  
"No, Charmont, it's not-"  
  
He stood. "I'll show myself out. Thank you for letting me visit, Lady Hattie."  
  
She pouted as I left, and I could feel Char coming towards the door. I closed the door quickly and near-ran towards the kitchens. I hear the door open and close again, and his quick footsteps following me down the hallway.  
  
"Wait!" he called.  
  
I tried to keep going, but the curse wouldn't let me. I stopped and moved against the wall as if to let him pass. He stopped before me, eyes boring through me once more as I tried not to cower.  
  
"Forgive me for asking again," he said, brushing a stray hair behind his ear. "But have we met before? Under...different circumstances, perhaps?"  
  
I shook my head. Please let him not know me.  
  
He stepped closer. "Are you quite sure? Have you always been called Cinders?"  
  
I nodded this time, and I fought the urge to reach out and touch him.  
  
"Tell the truth."  
  
Again the curse would bring the worse for me. "No, your highness."  
  
He opened his mouth to speak again, but I, in a very un-maidlike move, cut him off. "Will you excuse me, highness? I must help prepare dinner."  
  
"Go, then, if you must."  
  
"I must. Thank you, your highness."  
  
I curtsied before walking the rest of the length to the kitchens. I felt his eyes on me until I was out of sight, but I didn't look back.

* * *

A/N: Finally, another chapter! Sorry I don't have time to go through everyone's name who reviewed, but I thank you all the same. Your reviews were so nice to come home to after weeks at camp. :)  
  
Next chapter: Sir Peter gets home again and has a little tête-à-tête with Ella. More of Ella's magic book, we find out why exactly Char would come to call on that oh-so-annoying Hattie, and perhaps a bit of Gareth. Should be posted in about two weeks. I'll post a cookie sometime next week or the beginning of the week after.  
  
By the way – I was just wondering: What's everyone rooting for the ending to be? Ella/Char, Ella/Gareth, Ella/Someone else? Perhaps some Ella/Sir Giles? What you'd like may just effect what I decided to put in and keep out of the story. (hint hint)


	9. Foiled Again

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.

A/N: You guys blew me away with the amount of reviews you left me for the last chapter. Thank you so much!

Also – many thank yous to my new and amazing beta: (my old one quit on me, as I'm sure previous chapters show) Dulcis Caelum. You rock. :)

Reminder: Rating is still upped to PG-13, for those of you who didn't get the message.

Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

Call It A Gift

By Blackberry Ink

Chapter Eight: Foiled Again

* * *

At night when you turn out the light,

Think of me,

Smile and feel all right.  
And when you lay your head down to sleep,

May I be the one who fills your dreams.

_Foiled Again_, Eve 6

* * *

"You shan't be wearing your mother's old dress," Dame Olga said. "The material is far too fine for an occasion such as this. That dress shall be saved for Hattie's wedding."

I blanched. Hattie's broad body would stretch the fabric until it ripped. I'd rather see the dress burnt than worn by her. "I don't-"

"My decision is final," she said. "Do not quarrel with me on the matter."

I stopped spluttering and crossed my arms over my chest. I took as firm a stance as I could in order to relay my position to her.

"I have chosen a suitable dress for you to wear." She gestured to Irene, her lady-in-waiting, and Irene brought it over to us. It was a plain, cream-colored dress that looked as though it would barely cover my ankles. The sleeves were long, despite the fact that the wedding was set to take place the third week in July. "One of the servants saw it at market. It was extremely inexpensive."

"That's wonderful," I lied, my voice as flat at the countertop at which I should've been helping.

Dame Olga unceremoniously relieved herself of the garment, dumping it into my arms. "Sir Peter is set to arrive back home today, no doubt to help with the plans for the wedding. You must be prompt in meeting him when he gets here."

She waited for me to respond. When I didn't, she continued.

"There is also the chance that our Prince Charmont shall come to call again today. I am quite sure he was pleased by Hattie yesterday and would not be surprised if he looks for her company again," Dame Olga beamed at the thought. "Be prepared for that as well. You very nearly caused an embarrassment yesterday and I won't have you anywhere near him should he come."

I hid my disappointment quickly. Still, I doubted Char would come again to the manor, especially when he didn't have to. He couldn't possibly like anything to do with Hattie. But if he suspected who I was and wanted to inquire again –

"Go now," Dame Olga said, dramatically putting the back of her hand to her forehead. "Leave me."

I left the room, not bothering to shut the door behind me, and went downstairs to my room. I was supposed to be in the kitchen helping Mandy, but I felt a sudden need to do something I'd forgotten to do for several nights: check my magic book.

I opened it almost hungrily, turning quickly through the pages for any sign of him. I slowed as I neared the end of the massive volume, almost afraid to turn the next page. It was nearing the end when – yes – an illustration of Char. He sat on the end of what I assumed was his bed, head propped up on his hand, eyes unfocused, deep in thought. I tore my gaze away from it a minute later to see another entry in his journal on the opposite page. I felt my stomach flip over in anticipation, adjusted myself to a more comfortable perch, and read.

_Idiot. Dim-wit. Fool. I don't know what I was thinking._

_I've been receiving much admiration from one Hattie of Frell. Mother found out about it, and insisted I visit the girl. I argued, saying that it would only give her the wrong idea, but she made me go regardless. I suppose I could have backed out, but she was so adamant that I caved in. I don't know why; I've met Lady Hattie at several occasions and she is an utter troll. I think Mother still hopes that I shall marry, though I've declared countless times in the past months that I shall not._

_At any rate, I allowed myself to be taken to her manor. Which reminds me of another thing I should mention: Lady Hattie is the stepsister of Ella. The same fraud that laughed at my letters and didn't see my thoughtless proposal because she had already eloped with some rich –_

_I've done it again. I swore never to think or speak or write of her again. I'm normally good at keeping promises but I seem to have found a problem with this simple one. But I suppose I need to mention her to tell what happened today._

_I was having a regularly boring time, listening to Lady Hattie drone on about her dress or something equally dim, when she called a maid into the room. I immediately thought I recognized this maid: it was Ella. But what an irrational thought. What business would Ella have as a maid in her own household, especially when she is married to some old codger? I was probably just being unthinkingly hopeful, because I suspect a part of me longs for her often. I try my best to stamp out that part, but it is impossible, as it grows increasingly larger._

_And it couldn't have been Ella, despite the likeness, because Lady Hattie called her Cinders – what an awful name – and said she'd always worked there. And she'd have no reason to lie. Just like last time._

_That makes me recall another thing Lady Hattie said: Ella is betrothed. I suppose her husband has died, not leaving her quite rich enough, so she allowed her father to arrange a marriage to a larger benefactor._

_When Cinders left, I told Hattie I'd show myself out. I wanted to leave, anyway, but I also wanted to follow the maid. Just to be sure it wasn't Ella._

_Of course, it wasn't. She seemed terrified to be confronted by me, though she did admit that she hadn't always been called Cinders, as Lady Hattie had said. I didn't get the chance to interrogate her further; because she left to go to the kitchen. I didn't feel right keeping her._

_I may be a total and complete fool, but something here seems amiss. If I ever get up the courage to stand an hour of Lady Hattie's company again; perhaps I shall go and find out._

I whispered to the book to save the writing and hurried to close it, remembering that I'd been neglecting to help Mandy. She would be expecting me. I'd have time to think about the meaning of Char's journal entry later.

* * *

My father appeared home late that night; long after the moon had risen. Dame Olga, Hattie, Olive, and I sat together in the parlor until Nathan came into alert us of his arrival. Stomachs growling with hunger, we gave him a hurried greeting and whisked him off to the dining room, where dinner was served cold.

"It is good to be back," said Father as he sat back in his chair, nodding at Nancy to take his plate, signifying his completion with the meal.

"How was business?" Dame Olga asked blurted, finally, the question nearly bursting from her.

He patted her arm. "Excellent, my love. I shall earn back my debts sooner than I had planned."

She smiled beatifically at him. I cleared my throat, not wanting to be caught in the middle of one of their love-fests.

"And how goes the plans for the wedding?" he asked.

"They're-"

"Not going as well as I had hoped," I overrode. "Apparently, there is a problem with my wedding dress." I scoffed silently to myself; that was the least of my problems.

"A problem?" my father asked, his raised eyebrows showing mild concern.

"I am not permitted to wear my mother's old gown." I said.

"Ah, Eleanor," he said. "I am sure this can be reconciled." He turned to Dame Olga. "Surely she may use her mother's dress, my heart?"

His question seemed too much for her. "It does not fit her…" she simpered.

Father smiled, as though he had solved all the pointless woman's predicaments in a simple way none of us could understand. "Then it shall be fitted. Ella, you must wear your mother's dress."

I grinned slightly as I nodded. One battle won against my stepmother. But in reality, it was merely a skirmish, and I had run out of weapons. Unless-

"Father," I said abruptly. "Will you accompany me to your study after dinner?"

He looked amused, but nodded. "Of course, daughter."

Dame Olga prodded at his sleeve. "But, Sir P., you promised me you would-"

"Nothing ails me more than to be apart from you another moment," he said, and I was sure it was Lucinda's spell on him talking. "And you can be sure that when I have finished with Ella I shall not be out of your sight again as long as I am home."

She gave him a half-smile and her eyes darted in the ghost of a glare at me. Still, she allowed Father and I to excuse ourselves as Nancy began to clear the table.

"What troubles you, daughter?" Father asked. He indicated a green chair for me as he sat at his desk. "Surely not still the dress?" he teased.

I restrained my impatience with him and went straight to the point. "Dame Olga and Hattie have given me strict orders to remain inside," Then, to persuade him to speak in my favor I added hastily, "And they barely allow me help with the plans for the wedding."

"And you allow them to partition you such?" He raised his eyebrows. "I had no idea you were so obedient."

I let out a near-snort at the irony before I could help myself. "But, Father," I covered quickly. "They are my family, and my elders."

He emitted a derisive chuckle. "Well, then. Perhaps the prospect of your own family-" I grimaced at the idea of a family with Sir Giles "-is getting to you at last."

"Perhaps," I lied, my foot tapping under my dress, wishing he'd hurry up and give the counter-order. "Would you speak with them both on the issue, Father?"

He nodded. "Yes, Eleanor."

"And do it while I am in earshot?"

"Do you doubt my sincerity?" He raised an eyebrow, his eyes daring me to push the matter further.

"Only slightly, Father," I checked. "You were always a good liar."

He liked that. The corner of his mouth raised in a smile. I had learned to play his narcissist nature to my favor. "I shall speak with her now, in her parlor, where she undoubtedly is. Listen at the door, and leave when she has consented."

"Make sure Hattie does as well," I said.

He chuckled. "That will be harder. You demand so much of me, Eleanor. You are lucky I am kind to you."

"Very lucky, Father."

He stood. "I'll leave first," he said. I wondered why. Was our house as divided as our forged family was? But then – he must have known of how many servants would tell Dame Olga anything. Bertha, even, had been suspicious of me just the night before.

"As you wish," I said, and he went out the door.

* * *

Father was successful, and I was overjoyed. The next day, avoiding Hattie and Dame Olga at all costs, I headed into town. My happiness was dented, though, as I was stopped at the manor gate.

"This manor has been quarantined," the guard recited.

"Quarantined?" I repeated. "For what purpose? Is there some sort of epidemic?"

"By order of the lady of the house," he said. "For confidential reasons."

I groaned. "Surely you can't just let me through? You know I'm the daughter of Sir Peter of Frell, and I-"

"Hmph," he grunted. "No one may-"

I covered my ears quickly, despite how strange it must have looked, so that I couldn't hear the rest of the order. I wouldn't have Dame Olga translating any of her commands for me through her hoodlums.

"Thank you, then," I said, dropping a short curtsey and leaving with my fingers still plugged in my ears. When I was sure I was out of earshot, I removed them, and went into the kitchen.

"Ella." It was Mandy. "What are you doing inside?"

"Helping you," I said, putting on my apron.

She shook her head. "I'll do the cooking today. Go. Get back some of the color in your skin."

"Mandy, you need help."

She put her hands on her hips. "Get me some water, then, love, I'm running out," she resigned. I grinned, taking an empty bucket and leaving out the still-open door. "And make sure you take a long time!" she called after me.

I took as long as I could to get the bucket of water before I began heading back. Even though it was good to be outside again, I couldn't help but feel troubled. A quarantine on the manor – what had caused Dame Olga to go that far? And not only that, but the wedding was less than three weeks away. There was so little time to figure out what to-

"Psst," came a voice from the right. "Ella."

I turned and saw a hand beckoning me towards it, sticking out of the bush. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching and dove into the undergrowth.

"Hello, Gareth," I said before I saw him. "I didn't expect you so soon."

"It's been eight days," he said. "I thought you'd want to see me."

"I did," I admitted.

"Well, that's understandable," he said seriously. "I am a pretty great young man, aren't I? Strong, witty-"

I hit him in the shoulder and he sobered. "Domnoddy," I said, smiling.

He touched my arm. "Have you made any progress with the evil stepmother?"

"A bit," I said. "I'm allowed outside now."

"Well, that's always good."

We heard the screech of the rusty gates being opened, and I leaned forward to peer out of the bushes. Gareth was beside me in a moment, and he leaned in to look out at the manor gate.

A brown carriage with painted gold design was rolling through the gates and onto the path to the manor doors. I squinted to see that the curtains were pulled back and a man inside was visible –

"Oh, my-" I emitted. I felt as though my stomach had gotten caught in my throat.

"What is it?" asked Gareth, alarmed by my expression.

"Sir Giles," I said quickly. I turned to look at Gareth, gathering my skirt in my hands in preparation for a sprint. "I've got to go. Father is going to skin me if I'm not there to-"

"Wait," he said. "Why? Who's this Giles fellow?"

I nearly choked. Had I not already told him? I brought my mind back to the night when Gareth had climbed in my window…. No, I hadn't told him. I bit my lip.

"He's my betrothed," I muttered.

"He's your _what_?" Gareth hissed.

"Betrothed. To be married in less than two weeks." I couldn't look at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His face was pulled into an odd mixture of betrayal and compassion and I could not meet his eyes.

"I only found out last week. I'm sorry. I didn't want to think about it."

"Your stepmother is-"

"My father's making me marry him," I said, my voice trembling, unable to rise above a low murmur. "For a business tie. And to make him wealthier." My stomach refused to settle and I began to feel a bit nauseous.

"Ella, surely you can say no?" he wondered.

"I can't," I said. Not for the first time, I wanted to tell him about the curse. He'd understand, certainly, and he'd help. But Mother's order from so many years ago stopped me. "I just can't. They've got me roped into this whole affair and I just can't get out of it."

With a look of determined resolution, Gareth took both my trembling hands in his. "Then I'll get you out. We can go far from here and you won't have to take orders from them again. We'll open a shop somewhere – I'll teach you how to make shoes. We can go now, and we'll-"

"What about Mandy?" I asked frantically. "I can't leave her."

"She can come with us," Gareth answered resolutely.

"How shall I get my things? How shall we get past the gate? They'll be looking for me in a matter of seconds, Gareth. How long will we last without being found?"

"Wait here," he said. "I'll sneak in and get your things and Mandy and we'll be gone."

He dropped my hands and made a move to leave. "No," I said, rising slightly from my kneeling position. "I'll go."

"But if they see you…"

"If they see _you_, it shall be worse," I said. "If they see me, there is always tomorrow to try again."

"Alright," he said, nodding. "I'll wait here, then."

"If I don't come back today," I said, "Be here tomorrow at noon, if you can."

He nodded. "Be quick."

I darted out of the bushes with the water I had set out to get in hand, thanking the fact that I wore the shoes Gareth had made me and not the ridiculous heeled slippers my family would have me wear. I rapped quietly on the kitchen door for Mandy to let me in, wringing out my now-wet apron, as water had spilled all over if as I was running.

"Is that you, Lady?" Mandy said. She opened the door. "That father of yours is looking for you."

I got right to the point. "I'm leaving, Mandy. With Gareth. Will you come?"

Mandy was silent for half a second before she nodded deftly. "I have my things."

"I'll get mine and be back in a moment," I said, and sprinted out of the kitchen and down the hallway where my room was. I opened my door quickly and threw all of my belongings into a dull tan traveler's bag made of a rough knit, placing my books gently on top and my never-sent letters to Char crushed and wrinkled on the very bottom.

I heard deep voices down the corridor as I exited the room. Two tall men, dressed in formal black, were being led by Nathan to the kitchen. I gulped. How would I get Mandy?

I went the other way down the hall and along the stone siding of the manor to the outside back kitchen door. I peered in the window to find Mandy, gray hair a frizz atop her head, bustling about the room, trying to avoid the fact that there was a loud pounding on the door.

"Mandy!" I whispered hurriedly.

She came over to the door and held it barely ajar. "Go," she said in an undertone. "I'll hold them off of looking for you."

"But, Mandy, you've got to come with us!" I said. "I-"

"Go, love," she said. "I'll try to find you and meet you as best I can. Where are you going?"

"I don't know," I moaned, wringing my hands.

"I'll find you, Ella," Mandy said. "Now go! Before they break down the door!"

Finally heeding her, I ran back to the brush where Gareth was, heart palpitating faster than ever before.

"No Mandy?" Gareth asked.

I shook my head, and wiped quickly at my eye before they began to tear. No Mother, no Areida, no Char, no Mandy…why must everyone I love be taken away from me? "She said she'd try to meet us later."

"I'm sorry, Ella."

I brushed it off. "I'll see her again soon."

He nodded solemnly, then suddenly grinned. "I've got some good news for you."

"Oh?"

"The guards have left the gate in order to serve as some sort of body guard for the esteemed Sir Giles. We've got clear passing."

He offered me his arm and I slipped mine through it.

"Shall we, my lady?" he asked.

I grinned back. "I believe we shall."

And we walked through the gate.

* * *

A/N: I am _so sorry_ for taking so long with getting this chapter up. I'll try to be faster with the next one. I am, by no means, giving up writing this story. I'll admit I got a bit frustrated with it for a while, but I had a lot of fun writing this past chapter and hope to get another one up as soon as I can.

Thanks to nikkila, Arena, faith, mr. crabs, halfcrazy, MageFlam, kungfuchick, leafsfan4eva, Keiko Yuki, secludeddark, SirGimpalot, Twistedangel27, blackstar9, Stardust 16, CassTheCurious, THE BOOT OF MANY MOODS, WickedSilence, Adreena, Turwen, blue-la-shoo, Armaneconalie, Arwen Veancawen, milocachica, PunkLife22, why do you care?, Mystery, Leigh A. Sumpter, tayk, blue-hello-kitty, Gayle, Stardust 16, The Queen of the Pugs, CrimsonEnchantress, passerby, RoseGodess9, Shaharazade, awaiting impatient person, Samwise809, singinstrawberri, queen-of-sapphires, Chelime, Jules713, Indil Elondili, cutie20, Princess of the Phone Booth, RumorGoddess, tikigurl293, fairygoddess125, Pointy Objects, angelwings6117, FalseEyelashes, Pinktoedmonkey, Ahhhh, Tempest Dragon, Dulcis Caelum, Lady Emma, super sycoh, Anywien, and LOTR-nutcase for the reviews. I very nearly stopped writing this fic until I re-read your reviews, so thank you very, very much!

CrimsonEnchantress: I actually started out with this story in the third person, and have never gotten around to fixing it after I uploaded the story to Thanks for pointing it out, though; it reminded me that I really should fix it.

fairygoddess125: I'm really, really, _really_ sorry I took so long! Hopefully you'll forgive me and keep reading. The fact that you said you kept checking up on this story really made my day. :)

Mystery: Almost better than the book? Wow, that is high praise! Thank you so much. :)

Stardust 16: Ooh, sorry about the Hurricane Charlie thing. Hope everyone you know is okay. And thanks for the multiple reviews! I'll try to update sooner next time.

Keiko Yuki: Haha, if Ella doesn't get Gareth then I'll be sure to let you have him. At least for a little while.

WickedSilence: Thanks for the offer to edit. My last editor quit on me, and I'm horrible at it myself. But I recently got a new editor, beginning with this chapter. Hopefully the grammar's a bit better now.

RumorGoddess: Ooh, nice picking up on that order. You're the only one who's mentioned it. ;)

LOTR-nutcase: Heh, lots more fluff coming up. :)

In case you're interested, between e-mails and reviews, the amount of people who want Ella/Char and the amount who want Ella/Gareth were about even. Most people seemed to be unsure about which pairing they want to see, or they wanted both pairings (at different times, obviously). I've (finally) worked out where I want to story to go, but all you E/C and E/G shippers out there can try to sway me to your pairing. ;)

Winter break is here, which means more time for me to write. :D I promise the next chapter will be posted sooner. Again, I apologize for the wait!

Be sure to check my userinfo/bio/what have you if you're looking for information on how the next chapter is progressing. I'll post updates as to how far I've gone/what I'm working on almost every time I write.


	10. The Long And Winding Road

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.

A/N: Thanks again to the wonderful Dulcis Caelum for the beta.

I felt like you all got jipped on the last chapter by me leaving it off so short. So I'll try to skip on the messages for this one and get to the writing.

Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

  
Call It A Gift

By Blackberry Ink

Chapter Nine: The Long And Winding Road

* * *

The long and winding road  
That leads to your door  
Will never disappear.  
I've seen that road before.  
It always leads me her.  
Lead me to you door.

_The Long And Winding Road_ – The Beatles

* * *

"So where are we going, exactly?" I asked. 

It had been over an hour and we were in the forests outside Frell. We had stopped only briefly at the shoemaker's for Gareth's things and a bit of food. He hadn't dared to look for the shoemaker he had been apprenticed to for fear of leaving a clue for anyone out looking for me. I hadn't dared use what few coins I had to buy any supplies out of the same fear.

He paused a moment before saying, "Bast."

"Bast?"

He nodded. "I grew up there. I did tell you that?"

"Yes," I recalled. "And you left because one of your guardians-"

"- Hated me," Gareth finished. "Which makes us two peas in a pod, doesn't it? You've got dear old Dame Olga and I've got my sister's lovely husband."

"And I get to leave the bane of my existence behind while every step we take is another closer to yours," I said. "It makes me wonder if your skull is screwed on properly."

He tapped his head twice as if to make sure. "I believe it is, but I can assure you that you're not the first to think differently."

Gareth gave a playful tug on the sleeve of my dress as I laughed and said, "I wouldn't argue with that."

Gareth and I walked through the underbrush of the forests, much in the same fashion as I had done when I had escaped from finishing school. Despite the fact that the newness of the idea had been replaced by urgency to keep from being caught, the journey was proving infinitely better because of the company.

As dark began to settle around us I discovered a large patch of moss as soft as goose feathers sitting under the cover of an old maple. We didn't bother to make a fire as it was early summer and we required neither warmth nor heat to cook over. Gareth pulled from his pack some bread, broke it, and gave me half. I devoured my piece before I even got a chance to take the weight off my feet.

"It lasts longer if you eat slower, you know," he said.

"I'm going to sleep. And you brought enough for us to eat in the morning, did you not?"

He bit his lip, which succeeded in making him look like an impish child. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

"If we steal a bit along the way, perhaps."

I shook my head. "No. We are not stealing breakfast from any one. We're not common criminals. At least _I'm_ not a common criminal. I'm not entirely sure about your years before I met you-"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

I flopped down on the moss and smoothed my skirt to cover my ankles. "You know what I meant, Gareth."

"I don't."

"You as good as told me you'd used thievery to get your way to Frell."

"I certainly did not," he said, suddenly going rigid. "I worked-"

"When you were seven?"

"I worked," he insisted. "From Bast to Frell and found a steady job when I got there."

I rose to a sitting position and folded my knees to my chest. He was turned away from me and his pale-brown hair was anything but flat atop his head. I saw his shoulders rise and fall with each breath he took and I felt a snap inside my chest. It wasn't rational to quarrel over something so foolish. I couldn't bear him not looking at me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sure you worked. You could have-"

"No, I'm sorry," he said, turning to face me with a corner of his mouth turned up, leaning towards a small grin. "I may have stolen a little – a _lot_ – to get to Frell. I just don't normally tell people that I did." He tossed his pack on the ground against the tree. "But you're not a normal person, are you, Ella?"

"I suppose I should take that as a complement," I said, raising my eyebrows in what could almost be considered ladylike distain.

"It meant that you're my friend," he said, with a hint of decisiveness. "And the first real one I've had since I left Bast."

I had known it all along, of course, but if felt good to hear him say it. I wanted to say something just as frank – to tell him that I felt the same, and that I felt glad to have him with me, but my tongue felt stuck and that all that came out was, "Lucky for you then, isn't it?"

He snorted. "That's kind of you. Here I am, pouring out my poor wretched heart and all you have to say is that _I'm_ lucky to have _you_ as a friend. Lucky, indeed."

I grinned, glad the temporary tension was gone. "It's because of your influence."

"I'm sure."

A cool breeze brushed over us, tussling my hair a moment before letting it be, a bit more tangled than before. As Gareth came to sit next to me I stretched my legs out and lay down against the moss once more.

"We should get started again at dawn," I murmured. "If Dame Olga's sent someone after us, they probably won't be starting so early."

"Right," Gareth said, lying down beside me so that our heads were touching. I felt my heartbeat quicken and turned my face towards the sky to quell it.

"How far is Bast from here, do you think?" I hadn't gotten a chance to consult my magic book on the distance yet, because I wasn't sure I wanted to show it to Gareth yet. I had never showed it to a human before, and while I trusted Gareth, my hand was never steady when I tried to pull it out of my pack while he was there. So it remained hidden.

"Three more days walking," he said. "It's closer than you think when you look at a map."

"Have you made the journey often, then?"

He shook his head. "No, just the once. I never wanted to risk going back."

"Until now."

"Until now," he agreed.

"What will you do if we run into your sister?" I wondered.

He shrugged and wrinkled his nose. "I'd like to see her. It's been a while."

"Ten years is a long while."

"More than ten years," he said. He turned on his side and propped his head up on one hand as he looked at me. "Eleven, I believe."

"So you're-"

"Nineteen," he said. "Left home when I was barely eight."

I found my mouth dry and incapable of speech. Not out of shock – I'd heard the tale before, at least this much of it. But the nonchalant tone he spoke in made it hard for me to think of what to say. At eight I was at home and happy with my mother, playing everyday, helping Mandy cook, not worrying about curses and princes and stepmothers. At eight Gareth was alone in the world, just looking for a way to get by.

"I wish I'd known you then," I said. "When you'd just come to Frell."

He chuckled. "No, you don't. I was a self-righteous brat."

I recalled the day I'd first met him, how he'd held my shoes out of my reach until I'd given him payment. And how I'd loathed him for days until I hadn't been able to stop liking him.

"I could believe that," I admitted. "But you got better."

"A bit better." He reached out his hand to move a stray piece of hair out of my face. His hands were rougher even than Char's.

"We'd better get to sleep," I said, and it came out a bit brusquer than I'd intended.

He nodded and let his hand collapse so that his head was on the ground. "Good night, Ella."

"Good night."

* * *

By the end of the fourth day I felt as sore as ever. We had almost run out of what provisions we'd brought, so our recent rations had been too meager for my liking. We hadn't come across anyone on the road, though, and that in itself was a blessing. 

"When we reach that bend in the road up ahead," Gareth said, gesturing forward. "It'll be in sight."

I heaved a sigh and smiled. "Will we reach it tonight?"

"We'll have to. We're all out of food. We can scrounge up something in town."

"And should we stay at an inn tonight?"

"Do we have the money to stay at an inn tonight?"

"I have a few silver KJs from my father," I said. "Enough for a night and a meal."

"Good enough, then," he said. "I'll talk to my sister tomorrow. Hopefully while her husband is out working."

I felt obliged to say something about how he couldn't be that bad, but I knew too much about less-than-pleasant family members to be able to speak truthfully.

We reached the road's turn and soon Bast was before us. It was much larger than Frell, of that much I was certain. Smoke drifted out of the chimneys of dozens of buildings. I could see candles flickering in inns and pubs all over town, and people laughing in the windows as we drew closer. Few carriages roamed the streets, but many men stood in groups along the sides, leaning against buildings while drinking and talking. What few women there were appeared red-faced and short-skirted, bosoms hanging out indecently over low-cut dresses.

"Don't worry," Gareth whispered to me as we walked past a group of particularly drunk men. "This is the bad part of town. We'll stay at an in a few blocks over."

"Good," was all I could say.

A woman in laced purple lurched forward as we passed the door of a pub and her drink spilled all down my front. She laughed manically as Gareth immediately stepped in front of me, clutching my arm and the elbow.

"Watch it," he hissed to her and the man beside her. The words were all but useless, though, since they seemed far too gone beyond comprehension.

I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered to him, "Don't worry about it. Let's just keep going."

He stiffly stood closer to me as we walked, though, and the tension only eased when we had put a good two streets between us and all of the pubs.

"Here's a good place to stay," he finally said, gesturing towards a brick two-story building with very few windows. "I called on my aunt here when she used to visit. It's nicer than most."

"Shall I-"

"Give me the money for the room and I'll pay," he said. "We'll go in together, though."

"I'll pay, I'm-"

"No," he said. "I'm sorry, but it's not customary for women here to deal with money outside the home."

"Oh," I replied, biting my lip to keep from speaking out against either the order or such an unfair custom. It might not be wisest to argue the traditions of a town to which I had just arrived.

Gareth got us a room and a servant led us to it by way of dimly lit wooden steps that creaked each time I brought my foot down upon one. The servant's voice, like the man Gareth had given the money to, was very coarse and garbled.

"Was he drunk?" I asked Gareth once the servant had left. His voice wasn't nearly as slurred as the ones at the pub street, but it was slurred nonetheless.

"I don't think so," he replied. "That's how everyone talks here. At least the common people."

"Ah," I said. "I suppose you didn't retain the accent, then."

"All that time in Frell rubbed it off," he said.

There was a moment of silence while we both took in the room. There were two small beds that seemed to have been hastily pushed together with thin maroon blankets and sheets atop them. Two lit candlesticks sat in holders on a dresser beside the beds, and the curtains looked to be made of old sheets.

Gareth stepped forward and separated the beds so that there was a gap of a few feet between them, then laid his pack down on one of them.

"Shall I leave while you change?" he asked politely.

"Into what?" I said. "I'll just sleep in this."

He sat on the edge of his bed and put his pack to the floor.

"Do you mind if I read a little?" I asked, pulling out the magic book. He wouldn't be able to recognize it.

"No," he said, pulling back the light top blanket and crawling underneath. His eyes narrowed upon seeing the spine of my book, then asked, "Have anything for me to read?"

I thought a moment, then pulled out my language dictionary and tossed it to him.

"You carry a dictionary?"

"It has several languages in it. I like tongues."

"Of course," he said, smiling slightly as he cracked it open and began to read the dictionary's introduction.

Seeing Gareth somewhat immersed, I opened my magic book. I didn't have to look far for some sign of home – a picture of Hattie writing a letter graced the first page. Opposite was the letter itself. I read, misspellings and all:

_To Your Highness, the Prince Charmont:_

_First let me extend to you my most devoted wishes of good health for you and all of your family. You know that myself, and our country, would be desolate if any of our most esteemed royal family fell ill._

_I beleeve that my first several letters to you may have been lost as I have heard no reply. I am sure that if you had received them you would have been happy to write back to such a devoted and lonely subject as myself._

_I have been without much excitement in recent days. My manor has been all but desolate while we have not been able to entertain your company. Surely you will pleasur us with a visit sometime soon? I am exseadingly aware of all the royal duties of an upstanding prince like yourself, but I can only hope that you can find the time to visit my family and me. Perhaps you can console my stepfather – a longtime servant of his has recently run away and he has been most aggreeved._

_I look forward to your visit, and I remain, as always, your most loyal and faithful subject,_

_Hattie_

_Her spelling has certainly improved_, I thought sarcastically. And at least Char hadn't been interested enough to write her back. I reread one line: _a longtime servant of his has recently run away_. Could she mean me? It wouldn't be the first time she had referred to me as a servant. I felt tempted to ask Gareth's opinion on the letter. He had given me no reason not to trust him with it. Still, I shook my head of the idea and turned the page of the book.

The next dozen pages entailed the story of a dwarf, his six brothers, and young girl who came to them for refuge. I skimmed it quickly, looking for more signed from those I know. Especially Char. Despite the fact that my magic book had recently showed me an entry in his diary, I felt the familiar urge to read about him again.

To my dismay, there was nothing on Char, but on the final page my eyes lit up to see a short letter to me from Mandy.

_Dear Ella,_

_There isn't a way to see where you are that isn't big magic, so I hope that wherever you're headed finds you safe. Your father is frantic looking for you; he seems to need the money from the marriage more that he's always let on. He sent out two men to find you. Be careful of them, Ella. I wouldn't doubt that you're smarter, but either one of them would beat you for strength._

_Dame Olga's guards remain swarming about the manor, so I don't dare risk going to you yet. When you arrive somewhere safely, send brief word through Nancy. She'll pass it on to me, and I'll get to you as soon as need be._

_I miss you and worry about you. You didn't take your tonic, so be careful about catching illness. I'll bring some when I see you next._

_Love,_

_Mandy_

I whispered to my book to save the letter, and, seeing that Gareth had fallen asleep with my dictionary open on his chest, blew out the candle and went to sleep.

* * *

"Finally decided to wake up, I see," Gareth said when I woke. 

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and squinted as the sunlight pouring in through the window shined on my face. "What time is it?"

"About nine o'clock."

"Nine?" I wrung my hands for a moment before standing and smoothing out my dress. "I didn't mean to oversleep."

"It's alright. Here." He handed me a napkin bunched together at the top to form a pouch of sorts. It warmed my hand – there was food inside. "I already ate. I'll wait while you-"

"No, I've held you up enough," I said. "I'll eat on the way."

He nodded. "Her shop isn't too far; it should only take a quarter of an hour, at most."

"That's good," I said, relieved my legs wouldn't have to withstand another arduous trek like the one they'd only recently completed.

The street to Gareth's sister's home was considerably nicer than the one we had walked on last night. It was paved in cobblestone with smooth paths on either side for pedestrians. At first, Gareth stood on my left to guard me, he said, from any mud-slinging carriages.

"I think you could use that protection more than I," I told him, and didn't listen to his protest as we switched places.

When we reached a blacksmith's shop crammed between a florist and dressmaker not long after, Gareth announced that we were there.

"They live above the shop," he said. "It's getting upstairs that will be tricky."

Gareth put a hand on the door handle and began to slowly inch it open. "Try not to look like you're sneaking," he whispered, and we began to shuffle forward, moving left towards the staircase. He had reached the first stair and was just ushering me ahead of him when –

"Where do yeh think yer going?"

We froze. A gruff-looking man with a large, hooked nose stood before us. He had unkempt black hair flecked with gray and was, perhaps, old enough to be my father. I spotted Gareth's hand trembling a bit as it held the banister, and without thinking I put my hand on top of his to calm him.

"To see my sister," he said. "Nothing more."

"Who are yeh?"

"Who are _you_?" Gareth returned. I looked at him, wrinkling my brow. If Gareth didn't recognize this man as his sister's husband, than who could he be?

"_I_ live 'ere. _You_ two don't." He elongated the vowel in 'you' almost as much as was customary of the sound in Ogrese.

"Does a lady called Aderyn of Bast live here?" he asked.

The man shook his head. "I never 'eard of 'er," he said. "I bought this shop from an Evan of Bast, though, if that's of any use to yeh."

Gareth nodded, then to me he said, "That's her husband."

A woman began to come down the stairs and began talking in the same accent as the man's, except a few octaves higher, when she got halfway to the bottom. "Did these people just come in, Trynt? Did yeh offer 'em a drink?"

"Not yet, Gladys, I was just about teh," he said sheepishly.

"Sure yeh were," she scoffed, sniffing loudly. To us, "Would you two like anything?"

I shook my head, having just eaten, and Gareth did too.

"Well, yeh must stay for a bit," she went on. "My daughter's just back from her cousin's 'ouse, I'm sure she'd be 'appy to see yeh."

"Actually, we just wanted to speak to my sister," Gareth said. "She seems to have moved out from here, though, so we'll just go look for her-"

"Nonesense," Gladys said. "You'll stay fer lunch. And dinner, if it becomes yeh."

"No, we really should be going-"

"I'll have none of it, yer staying," Gladys said, leaving the room as if to signify the argument over with.

The man – who seemed to be her husband – offered Gareth and I a sort of apologetic shrug before following her. "You two can go upstairs, my daughter Mabyn'll show yeh around."

Gareth and I looked at one another for a moment.

"Might as well, I suppose," I said, nodding towards the stairs.

Gareth nodded his head resignedly. "I suppose you're right. It doesn't seem like we can get out of this one."

* * *

A/N: I planned on skipping the endnotes for this one, but I didn't want to leave it without addressing a few questions in reviews. So I'm just going to do the normal end thing. Sorry if it's…overbearing? 

Thanks again to everyone who's reading and reviewing. You guys keep me writing. :) Extra thanks for the excellent reviews from:

Areida, HpDeVoTeE, Bridget, Jeweled Rose, tayk, yo, Monkeystarz, B4U, Katt, WinnieThaPoo92, Abbeygirl06, SweetSouthernGal, marie0991, angelwings6117, Addie or Ella, moirariordan, Leigh A. Sumpter, tikigurl293, pearls and roses, Pointy Objects, beyonce-85, kungfuchick, Dulcis Caelum, Samantha, Arwen Veancawen, secludeddark, Ileana DuBaer, blackstar9, inusessy129, awaiting impatient person, Mohuyea, These Walls, queen-of-sapphires, mymagic, Miss Ginny, elemental-girl, Anne-Marie, Samwise809, Indil Elondili, fantasyfan, Gayle, Keiko Yuki, Aarzu, and LOTR-nutcase

pinkpengiun0000: Just like in the book, and oftentimes in fairy tales, many people who are about to get married hadn't even met the one they're about to be married to. The marriage arranged between Ella and Sir Giles isn't one for love (obviously), it is for economic reasons. So Sir Peter doesn't care if the relationship itself works out or not.

awaiting impatient person: When you wrote Coo coo ca choo in the reviewt, that wouldn't happen from the Beatles song "I Am The Walrus," would it? Sorry if I'm completely off, but I'm an insane Beatles obsessive and it sounds a lot like it. Hopefully that wasn't random….

Gypsy-dragon: I mentioned a few chapters back that Tristan was staying with Nancy, one of the kinder servants at Dame Olga's manor.

horse-crazy-gurl: Yes, I have decided what pairing it's going to be. I decided around chapter four, I think. I am still very interested what pairing everyone wants, though, and the ending can always change. ;)

It's looking like the story is a about two-thirds of the way done (maybe less). I may have decided on a pairing a while back, but I'd still love to hear who everyone wants Ella to end up with. :) I'll post a new chapter as soon as I can.


	11. Behind That Locked Door

Disclaimer: Plot is mind, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.

A/N: Sorry! I've really taken _way_ too long with this one. Hopefully it's worth it?

Also, sorry for any errors. I did the whole thing today and didn't want to wait to post it.

Warning: Watch out for some increased…sexual themes in this chapter. Nothing beyond the fic's rating (T), but I thought I'd just give you readers an advanced warning just in case.

Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

Call It A Gift

By Blackberry Ink

Chapter Ten: Behind That Locked Door

* * *

And the tales you have taught me

From the things that you saw

Makes me want out your heart, please, please

From behind that locked door.

_From Behind That Locked Door_, George Harrison

* * *

"Would yeh like a pint?" Gladys asked after me.

I looked sideways at Gareth. "A pint of what?" I asked our hostess.

She chuckled. "Ale, of course!" I shook my head fervently, so she turned to Gareth. "And you?"

"No thank you," he said politely.

"Well, go on then," she said, herding us towards the stairs. "Mabyn's room is th' firs' on yer left."

I nodded and Gareth walked behind me up the stairs. I knocked on Mabyn's door.

"Who's there?" she called.

I paused before responding, wondering whether or not it would be in my best interests to state my name. I turned to Gareth, eyes asking the question, and he nodded.

"I'm Ella of Frell and your mother sent-"

The door was opened quickly, as if Mabyn had been standing right on the other side of it all along. She scanned me quickly, then turned to Gareth and her face softened and fell into a small smile.

"What did you say your name was?" she asked him. I noted that she didn't speak with the accent her parents carried. Instead, she spoke in a gentle lilt most unlike the harsh ogrese-based tones of most of Bast.

"Gareth," he said. "Currently of Bast, I suppose."

I noticed Gareth's eyes wandered slightly down her dress before flitting up again to her face. I rolled my eyes and allowed the two of them to banter gently for a few moments as I studied Mabyn. She was pretty, I allowed. Very pretty, even. Her dress was obviously worn and her hair was in almost-elegant disarray. She only lifted one corner of her mouth when she grinned, but the smile reached her eyes and made her face seem fuller. She would fit in among the ladies at court if she were dressed properly, I decided. She would be cunning enough to win any of the knights and counts and dukes. She'd only need that smile and they'd fall at her feet.

"…and Ella and I were looking for my sister here in Bast," said Gareth.

"Is that so?" said Mabyn. She looked at me as though she were finding the quickest route to getting me out of the way and giving her time alone with Gareth.

"Yes. We're only staying here for lunch," I said. "And your mother told us to come upstairs and you would show us around."

She smiled a toothy smile. "Well there isn't much to see up here," she said. "That's a spare room there, and my parent's bedroom is the next door down. I doubt you want to see the rooms themselves. They're nothing interesting."

"If you say so," Gareth said. He moved a bit closer to me to allow Mabyn to pass us and head down the stairs.

Gareth and I followed her silently, then, when offered them, took seats at a kitchen table with the others.

"Yeh sure yeh don' wan' that pint?" Gladys asked us as she placed a mug in front of Mabyn, who promptly took and relished several sips.

"We're sure," I answered for both of us. I was growing stiffer by the minute, being at this place. I wanted to get on with our search.

"Well, we're eating in 'alf an hour, so perhaps it's best teh keep yer stomachs empty," she said, nodding. "Now. What did yeh say yer names were?" She looked at both of us, but, like Mabyn, showed more interest in Gareth.

"Ella of Frell," I said laboriously. The air was thick with ale and I wanted very badly to leave.

"And yeh?" Gladys cooed, nodding at Gareth.

"Gareth," he said.

"Mmm," Gladys said through closed lips. "If yeh don' mind me asking, how old are yeh, Gareth?"

"Nineteen," he replied promptly.

"Ooh," said Gladys conspiratorially. "Just a year older than our Mabyn."

Now Gareth stiffened. Then he dropped his face into his charming grin to please them. "Oh, how…" he struggled to find a word. "Nice."

Mabyn slid her chair closer to Gareth's.

I grabbed Gareth's hand under the table and used my index finger and shape letters into his palm. They spelled out: _Let's leave_.

Gareth waited a moment before tracing onto my wrist: _If you want to._

I nodded quickly, and we both rose from our seats.

"We're terribly sorry," I said. "But we must be somewhere at noon. I've just remembered."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Gareth added. We made our exit.

We came to a halt outside of a vegetable stand. Gareth touched my elbow so that I would turn to face him. "What was that for?" he asked.

I took a step away from him so we were no longer touching. "I didn't like it there. It was probably the ale."

Gareth heaved a sigh. "It was foolish to leave like that. They could have known where my sister is."

I pushed a stray piece of hair back behind my ear. "They would have told us already if they knew."

"We'd barely touched upon it. They might have told us over lunch, which we promptly missed because you were _uncomfortable_."

"_You_ didn't seem uncomfortable at all. Seemed to enjoy the attentions of Mabyn, didn't you?" I put on Gladys' voice and said, "'oh, you're only a year older than Mabyn!'"

"Jealous, are you?" Gareth scoffed. "Because the only people who pay attention to you only do it so that they can better their own status? They only talk to you because you're a necessary pawn in their plans to gain wealth and status."

I stepped back, stung. "I have people who care about me for who I am, not _what_ I am. Unlike you, who can only get people to talk to you because you're _remotely_ good-looking." I went through the list of people in my head: Areida, but the curse had ruined it; Mother, but she had died; Char, whose case I wasn't about to delve into. Well, there was Mandy. I had Mandy.

"If so many people care about you," Gareth said, tilting his chin up, "perhaps you'd be fine without me. What do you need a lowly shoemaker's apprentice for when you've got so many other friends in high places?" He nodded towards a sign on the post behind me. "'Prince Charmont will be visiting Bast next week on his way back from the Fens.'" Gareth emitted a punctured laugh and said sarcastically, "Is he another one of your upper-class friends? You've no need for me, I see, since our dear _prince_ is coming."

I gasped. Gareth hadn't known the affect those words would have on me since I hadn't told him of my relationship with Char. The memories came flooding back to me with such speed that I nearly let out a sob. Instead I reached out and tore down the sign, pocketing it when Gareth wasn't looking.

Gareth must have noticed the look on my face, because he lost his fierce look and opened his mouth slightly, almost an apology.

"Ella…" he said softly.

"No," I bit out. "If you don't want to stay with me, that's perfectly alright. I don't need you here, I don't-"

He closed the space between us and held me against him before I could get out another word. I tried feebly to push him away, shoving my small hands against his chest, but eventually I gave in to the soothing feeling of his hands on my back and the warmth of his breath against my hair and the rising and falling of his shoulders and I buried my head in the crevice of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Ella," he said, and he meant it.

I couldn't bring myself to speak, even an apology. I was too weighed down with thoughts, my mind swirling. Char was coming here. To Bast. I was reminded of his promise, all those months ago at the palace ball.

_I'll stop in Bast whenever I can._

Was I the reason for him coming? Or, rather, was Lela? Would he seek Lela out, and be devastated when he couldn't find her? Or was this just a routine visit? Had he forgotten about Lela? Had he forgotten about me?

Gareth shifted slightly and moved his hand slowly up his back until his hand was in my hair, his fingers combing through the tangles of the journey. I tried to press myself deeper against him, trying to block out my feelings for Char. I felt wretched, still loving him. I had no right to love him after I'd hurt him so. But the more time went by, the more I realized I could never stop. I was doomed to love Char until I withered away and died.

"I'm sorry," Gareth was murmuring into my ear. His warm breath was now on my neck, making me weak with both joy at being so cared for and misery for still loving Char and not telling Gareth.

We were in the dark of an alley, and I pulled away from Gareth slightly to sit, leaning back against the wall. Gareth sat beside me, our legs aligned and our hips and shoulders touching. I leaned against him.

"You smell like ale," I joked.

"Perhaps I had a pint when you weren't looking."

"Perhaps you took a few sips from Mabyn's mug," I said sarcastically.

"Ella…."

"Mabyn just seemed very keen on you, that's all I'm saying."

"Well, I'm not keen on her," Gareth said indignantly.

"Are you sure? She's very pretty."

"I hadn't noticed."

I nearly snorted. "I saw the way you looked at her."

Gareth raised his eyebrows. "And what way was that?"

I grew red. "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," I said. "You liked her. I know you did."

"I did not," he said. "That is to say, I _liked_ her. But not the way you're implying."

"I'm not _implying_ anything. I'm saying it out in the open. You like her. You'd like to see her again."

"I would not."

"You're blushing. You like her."

Gareth grinned now. "I can prove that I didn't."

"How? By finding her and-"

"I don't have to see her again to prove it," he said.

And then he kissed me.

His mouth on mine was a cyclone of heat, pulsing through my entire body until I felt I would explode. I'd never been kissed before but I knew now why girls talked about it so often. His hands were in my hair again and his body was pressed completely on mine, pleasantly crushing me against the bricks of the wall. I kissed him back, and his lips tasted sweet and bitter at the same time. He held me close and I felt as though we were falling through clouds.

The kiss was urgent, almost in a hurry, as if he was kissing me like he knew I would run away in a moment. I felt in his lips the accumulation of all the accidental brushes of his hand against mine, and him running his hand along my cheek in my room before we left Frell, and him holding my in the alley moments before. I felt joy, but overwhelming sadness. I felt I was losing a friend.

I didn't know what to do. This is was nothing like how I'd imagined kissing Char would be.

I pulled away.

"Gareth," I said, and I realized I was crying.

And Gareth, taking in the look on my face, kissed the corner of my lip before using the ground to push himself off of me. Immediately I missed his warmth, but said nothing. Then, slowly, he turned and left the alley.

I was left alone, feeling more wretched than before.

* * *

My back ached when I woke. I'd fallen asleep slumped against the brick wall. It took me a quarter of an hour to be able to stand properly, and another quarter of an hour to find some water to wash the trails the tears had made off of my face.

Char was coming in six days. It would be best for me to leave and go to the next town over during his visit, since I feared that he might issue me an order I didn't want to obey. Of course, the chances of him actually seeing me were unlikely. And even if he did see me, he wouldn't recognize me from a distance. Not only was I filthy with travel and dressed like a lowly merchant's daughter, but I had filled out some since Char had last seen me. I'd settled into the upper half of my dress while the waist grew tight.

Yet a part of me wanted him to recognize me. I wanted him to see that I was not married to a man three times my age, watching him rotting away as I fondled hoards of jewelry. I wanted him to see that I had become stronger. I wanted him to know that my love for him had not ebbed in the slightest.

But I didn't feel I could come to any decision without Gareth. I felt an ache in my chest at the thought of him. It was horrible of me to have kissed him back when I was dreadfully in love with Char. Gareth was my friend – my best friend, even – and I had thoughtlessly hurt him.

I thought of my hatred of my curse, mostly out of habit.

I loved Gareth, but not the way I loved Char. And now I had hurt both of them.

Well, I thought, I'd ruined my relationship with Char, but I wouldn't allow the one between Gareth and me to meet the same fate.

I got up and began to walk.

* * *

I went a full day without seeing Gareth. I'd looked around the nearby streets not straying far from the alley where'd he'd left me, because I'd set up a temporary camp there.

Using a bronze KJ I'd found at the bottom of my pack, I bought myself a loaf of bread, which, combined with a public well, constituted three meals.

For those hours I lived a melancholy existence, walking around and looking for Gareth's telltale saunter or for Char's train of horses and carriages.

The next day I woke to the sounds of gentle breathing. Gareth.

"Hello," he said, and his voice cracked.

"Hello," I murmured, just as achy.

"I'm sorry I left," he said. "I didn't mean to-"

I stood and cut him off by throwing my arms around him and hugging him fiercely, hoping he caught the meaning behind the embrace: _please, please, please let us be friends._

Gareth stiffened at first, then leaned into me, his arms still dangling limply at his sides.

"I missed you," I offered.

"I missed you, too," he said, standing up straight now as I dropped my arms. I was aware of how close we were standing, and he was too, apparently, because he took a step back.

"I'm sorry about…about the other day," I said. "I don't want you to think-"

"Don't worry about it," he said, shaking his head. "I should have known not to do it. I just-" He cut himself off.

"Let's not talk about it now," I said.

Gareth deflated. "Alright," he said.

"We should find a better place to stay," I said. I laughed nervously. "I don't want another night in this alley."

"Alright," Gareth said again. "I found where my sister lives. I haven't spoken to her yet, but we can go talk to her now, if you'd like."

"That would be good," I said.

Gareth and I left the alley together.

* * *

A/N: Okay, this is going to be a long author's note.

First: don't despair, Ella/Gareth fans! Their ship has not sunk. You'll just have to wait until the next chapter to find out what happens.

Thanks to horse-crazy-gurl, Ileana DuBaer, livingdead2010, inusessy129, awaiting impatient person, Antikia Lighten, CassTheCurious, queen-of-sapphires, Beth, Monkeystarz, Samantha, Anywien, Gemzgurl, dancrchick, kungfuchick, Abigail, Pointy Objects, These Walls, louwho, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, kkroonie, Keiko Yuki, flammingirl, Gypsy-dragon, georgeharrison1, Tenshi no Shinzo, Mitza, Mohuyea, Gayle, silva sharpie, fantasyfan, rubberdukki, Fyliwion, kailie, booksrule39, Stardust 16, Latinaheat, Gami, lucky-duck, Meg, scubadiver725, thank-me-later, Izzygums, Inannalia, Bacon Yu A Pie, Indil Elondili, buddy, bowling4souproxmysox, utterbliss, Dream Chaser, Lisa, pearls and roses, Fleur the First, RoseGodess9, hermioneluver, Megan, Sydney, jaina solo fel, a someone, pawzzz, sunsong518, A Pleasant Reader, Natalia, nikkila, StormDarkblade, eveningsparkles, Mockingbird84, jackspparrow4ever, Iridescent Moonlight, and animalluvr75 for the reviews of Chapter Nine.

And, since there were a lot of questions in that last batch of reviews, I've picked out the questions and did sort of a Q&A thing.

_What happened to Gareth's sister?_ –kungfuchick

She'll come more into play in the next few chapters. She's somewhere in Bast, they just don't know where.

_Why did you write it? I mean ella enchanted had a quck but good ending too-don't get annoyed - I am just wondering where you got the idea to change it._ – MIDNIGHT-PIXIE

I do like the ending of Ella Enchanted. It's a lot better than the one I'm writing. I'm really only writing this alternate ending thing because it's (mostly) fun.

_When Gareth tells Ella women do not handle money in Bast, it is not an order, but you have Ella fighting from "speaking out against the order."_ – fantasyfan

Ella tries to handle the money and Gareth says "no" – an order.

_'Tristan' and 'Gareth' - that's amusing. Both names of King Arthur's knights, hmm? Was that intentional?_ –Gami

Hehe, I'm glad someone spotted that. Arthurian Legend is one of my obsessions. The names Tristan and Gareth were chosen to pay homage to my obsession.

_What are some of the other characters besides Ella feeling?_ –scubadiver725

This fic is written in the same point of view as the novel. Since it's in first person, it's written so that the reader only knows what Ella is thinking. I can't just switch perspectives in the middle. :)

_How does Gareth feel about helping Ella? Does he want to marry her or just care for her as a sister or friend?_ –scubadiver725

I think this chapter answered that question. ;)

_What about Char? What happens to him?_ -pearls and roses

Lots and lots of Char to come. Starting next chapter. So you'll see.

_Didn't Gareth's sister go visit him in an earlier chapter? And he told Ella if he didn't meet her he'd be at the shop getting strangled by his sister? How can he not have seen her in ten years? How is it he doesn't know she's moved? –_pawzzz

Yes, Gareth's sister visited him in Chapter Six. This was partially a mistake on my part. Looking back, I accidentally cut out that he never actually _saw_ his sister during her visit. Or at least I didn't make it clear. So, the last time he saw her was two years ago, briefly. And it was an eight-year stretch without seeing her before that. Suffice to say they don't have a very strong bond.

Very popular questions:

_Can Gareth end up with Areida?_

We'll see!

_Who is Ella going to end up with?_

It's either Gareth or Char. That's all I'm saying for now. ;)

_When are you going to update?_

I'm working on it! I know I'm slow.

Feel free to ask me more questions. :)

**Next Update:** I hate deadlines, but I'm setting myself one for the next chapter. I'll have the next chapter posted by June 22. It's a month from now, I know, but it's the end of the school year and time goes quickly. If I don't have the next chapter up by then, feel free to throw things at me.


	12. One Of These Things

Disclaimer: Plot is mine, anything you recognize belongs to someone else, I don't claim it, blah, blah, blah.

A/N: So umm. About that update in June. I must have gotten it confused with January. I mean. Wait. It's February. : Oops.

Thanks for throwing things at me, though, guys. It's made me get my act together and start writing this story again. Only took a little longer than I'd originally anticipated. ;)

Summary: On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse as a maid in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

  
Call It A Gift

By Blackberry Ink

Chapter Eleven: One Of These Things

* * *

"_But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way."_  
- Jane Austen

* * *

Things were different between Gareth and me. We walked a little farther apart, spoke a little less, were careful not to touch each other. I tried feebly to bridge the gap, but I feared that something had happened that would keep us from ever being the same way again. 

He cleared his throat. "Er. Here we are."

His sister's house was considerably larger than Gladys's. It was constructed in the traditional style of Bast: white stucco with brown wooden shutters and plating, and a heavily thatched roof. But this place far outnumbered the buildings directly surrounding it, and was considerably more menacing. The others had flowers pleasantly accenting the windows and stuck in the eves, but this one had only naked weeds poking about searching for sunlight in the shadow of the building.

"Shall I knock?" I asked.

Gareth's eyes barely flickered over towards me as he stood straight and smoothed out his shirt. Timidly, I reached out and brushed off a speck of straw that clung to his back.

"Thank you," he murmured, still not looking at me. I felt a pang in my chest and tried not to block it out of my mind as Gareth rapped thrice on the massive door.

A small girl in a sooty apron and cap came to let us in. "Who are _you_?" she asked, wide-eyed. She held a broom behind her back and seemed to regret her outspokenness upon first meeting us, now looking down at her feet and hunching her shoulders as she waited for a response.

"I'm Gareth," he said gently, squatting down to her level. "And who are you?"

"I'm the maid!" she piped.

"You are, are you?" He grinned. "That's a big job for such a small girl, isn't it?"

She blushed and brought her broom out in front to hide her face. "Well," she admitted bashfully. "My mum's the _real_ maid, yeh see."

"Oh, I see," said Gareth. "Well, do you think you could take us to meet Aderyn of Bast?"

"No need, I'm here," said a stout woman in a slightly-less-sooty apron. She shooed the little girl away and crossed her arms. "Making friends already, I see."

"Hello, Aderyn," Gareth said with a crooked smile.

"Hello, Gareth," she said with a tired sigh. "What would you like? Money? Food? Shelter? Any other necessities I haven't covered?"

"All of the above, actually," he said cheerfully. "But mostly I just want to see you."

She snorted. "If you'd wanted to see me, you could have made time to stop by when I was in Frell only a few months ago."

Gareth shifted a bit but maintained his smile. "I was indisposed at the time. You're not going to hold that against me, are you?"

"I've got a dozen bronze KJs to spare. You can stay on for dinner, and one night if you'll sleep in the kitchen. You're to be gone at the crack of dawn, you here?" Aderyn said.

"Thanks, sis," he said cheekily, and she rolled her eyes and turned to go back into the kitchen. "But I must ask – why do want us gone at dawn? I would have thought-"

"You don't think, Gareth. I know that well enough. But if you must know, I want you gone before Evan returns home. He'll be even less pleased to see you than I am."

"You can't-"

"We eat in one hour. Stay outside 'til then," she snapped, and left.

We both stood stock-still for a moment as I absorbed what had just gone on and Gareth took inventory of the room.

"We'd better do as she tells us," I finally said.

"Alright then," he said with a shrug, and we walked back out the way we came.

I sat down on the front stoop and played aimlessly with the hem of my skirt until Gareth eventually joined me.

I felt a tugging at me to talk to him about what had happened; it still felt unresolved and I could hardly bear watching him avoid eye contact with me. I pulled at his shirtsleeve with full intention of speaking. He turned to face me, our noses accidentally touching. I laughed uneasily and looked down at the cobbled street, wishing the awkwardness away. I wanted our easy friendship back, but the kiss still stood between us.

"Listen. Ella," he said, swallowing. He reached out gently, cautiously, and turned my chin to face him so that our eyes met. He searched my face for a long moment before dropping his hand. He gave me a sideways grin and went on. "I don't like this any more than I think you do."

I nodded empathetically, trying to will myself to speak. But I had never been good with such conversations. "I-" I began.

"Hush. Let me talk first." I let my shoulders relax, thankful, for once, of a command.

"I don't want things to be different between us. We – we" -- his voice quaked a little -- "we have a kiss. That doesn't – it doesn't mean that things have to be different."

I nodded again, my mouth glued shut until he finished.

"And maybe I, you know, fancy myself rather in love with you," he gulped, and my heart lurched. My mouth must have opened because he said, "No, no, let me get this out." Little did he know. "But I'm going to do my best to forget that. It was stupid. _I'm_ stupid. A Lady and a shoemaker…well that's the most asinine thing I've ever heard. Of _course_ it wouldn't – I wouldn't – oh, _dammit_ Ella, just say something."

Now that I could, I found myself quite unable to speak. A part of me wanted to run, keep me from saying something to break his heart or break our friendship even more. A part of me wanted to shout at him; how could he be so stupid as to love me? A part of me wanted to shout at _myself_; what had I ever done to make him love me, and why couldn't I take it back? And a part of me, a very small part, wanted to kiss him and lie and tell him I loved him too, just so he wouldn't hurt anymore. But most of me couldn't get Char out of my head. And my heart.

There was nothing else to it. The only way I could be fair to him would be to tell him about Char. He deserved to know, after all we'd been through. I had two secrets; he should know at least this one. I took a deep breath and began.

"Gareth," I choked out. "There's something you should know."

"You're in love with someone else," he said for me.

"I, well, yes," I said, caught off-guard by his completion of my thought. "How did you-"

"I know you well enough by now, I should think," he said ruefully. "I can't for the life of my think of who the lucky lad is. He must be a prince, though, to beat me out, eh?" he joked.

I forced a cough. "Actually. Well. He is."

"He is what?"

"A prince," I said. "I'm in love with a prince." It sounded even more foolish when I said it out loud.

He stared at me, blank-eyed, for a good minute before saying, "_What_?"

I swallowed. "I'm in love with Prince Char. Charmont, that is."

He raised his eyebrows, then promptly burst out into laughter.

"Hey!" I said indignantly, hitting him with reprove in the arm. "It's not funny!"

"No," he got out between peals of laughter. "It's funny."

A small grin crept onto my face. "Well, I suppose a little."

His laughter was contagious enough that it took no time at all for us both to be enveloped in a fit of laughter, far more than the situation warranted, but it was good to laugh. Most of all, it was good to be laughing with him.

Eventually Gareth straightened and stood up. He held out his arm to me to take and I slipped my hand through it. "So," he said. "He's good-looking, I hope."

I hit him lightly again and said, "Not as handsome as you, of course," I joked, "But handsome enough."

"Well, no one's quite as handsome as I," he said, jutting out his chest.

I smiled, leaning against his shoulder as we walked.

"I know you're not one of those foolish girls who loves a prince after seeing him only once at a ball," Gareth said. "Tell me, then. How did you come to be in such a state of admiration for your esteemed leader?"

My chest constricted slightly, but I had grown so used to it that I barely noticed. "we met at my mother's funeral," I said solemnly.

"Ah. Romantic."

"He got me a centaur," I said, smiling broadly at the thought of Apple and of Char capturing him for me. "And we explored the old castle, and went to the menagerie, and captured a dozen ogres."

"In that order?"

"Not quite." I paused, thinking back. "We exchanged letters for months when he was away. And he told me – he told me he-" My throat contracted and I found myself unable to go on. The elation of speaking of all the things we'd done was quickly fading. Perhaps talking so much about him was too much for my heart to take.

I realized then that we'd stopped walking and that Gareth's eyes were boring through mine.

"Told you he loved you?" Gareth said blandly.

I looked down. "Yes," I said.

"Well then," said Gareth, urging me on down the road. "Sounds like the perfect love story, doesn't it?"

"Besides the happily ever after," I murmured, now shuffling along slower than a snail. I wanted desperately to turn away from this conversation, I wasn't ready for it, I couldn't talk about Char, not now, not ever, not with Gareth.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I – I can't say," I said pathetically, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't order me to tell him. Gareth rarely ordered that I do anything, but what would I do if he did?

"Alright," he said, quietly accepting my inability to answer.

* * *

We woke the next morning, warmed by the kitchen fire in Aderyn's house and being hit with very little pity by a woman with a large broomstick. 

"I told you to be own at dawn, Gareth!" Aderyn screeched. "I'll not have more problems with Evan, you here? Get out, _out_, I say!"

"Give us a minute, will you?" Gareth said, getting up sleepily and rubbing his backside gingerly where his sister had his him.

"I'm going to fetch some slop for the pig, and if you aren't a block away by the time I get back…"

"I know, I know, we'll be tarred and feathered and run out of Bast for all to see," Gareth said. He reached down to help me up and we stood together in his sister's kitchen, waiting for the sleep to escape our eyes.

"That was interesting," he said.

"Quite," I returned.

"We'd better go," he said. "I've no desire to see that oaf of a brother-in-law of mine."

Gareth grabbed two rolls that sat atop the counter and tossed one to me.

"Won't she be angry you took them?"

He shrugged. "She won't miss them. Let's go."

He loped out the back door just as Aderyn's feet could be heard storming back into the kitchen.

"Gareth, you ass! Those rolls were for my-" I caught, until her voice was drowned out Gareth's and my laughter.

"Endearing woman, your sister," I said with a grin.

"You're just lucky you didn't have to see her as child," he said. "She was even more sour back then."

I giggled appreciatively and then my eyes widened and I stopped short. "What…" I started, but ended in my mouth lying agape as I stared out into the road ahead of me.

Down the road, the fanfare blasted and it seemed as though all of Bast was rushing out into the streets to cheer. There was a large purple carriage with gold trappings and half a dozen footmen being followed by at least twenty riders. I recognized a few of them as knights from when I'd spoken to the ogres in the forest. The carriage was coming closer and closer, it could only be –

"Come on," Gareth whispered into my ear, and took my arm as I followed him numbly into the nearest shop. He squeezed my hand to comfort me but I could find no reassurance in it.

Char was here.

Three days early, and he had arrived in Bast, trumpets blaring and everyone embracing his visit. Except me. But oh, how I longed to be in his arms.

"You're white as a ghost," Gareth murmured to me.

"We're in a sweet shop," I said, my voice sounding unfamiliar even to me. "Why are we in a sweet shop?"

"You didn't look quite in the proper condition for meeting your prince," he said contritely. "Are you alright, Ella?"

"I-I don't know," I stuttered, thinking only of if I dared to look out the shop window. The cries of the crowd were getting ever louder, and I could sense the beginning of his train starting to approach.

I felt myself rocking back and forth, fighting the impulsive urge to run out into the streets and jump onto the carriage and beg him to forgive me. Gareth's arm was around my shoulder but I hardly noticed, I could think of nothing but Char and how I missed him and loved him and –

"The prince is here! He's coming in!" cried the sweet shop owner in delight.

Gareth then dragged my hardly-functioning body towards a small table in the corner and I ducked down into the crevice in the walls and begged that the table and chairs would be enough to hide my panic-stricken face.

"Good day, your highness!" exclaimed the sweet shop owner, coming over to Char with a large tray of candies. "Take your pick, please, Prince Charmont, whatever you'd like!"

Char smiled and I felt my insides melt. It had been so long since I'd seen him smile. I'd forgotten how wonderful it was.

"I'll have them all," he said cheerfully. "And pay you double for it."

He was exceedingly happy about something, that much was certain. I wished with all my heart that it wasn't about the prospect of seeing me, well, Lela, that is. Then I cursed myself for being so narcissistic. Of course he wouldn't be thinking of me. Lela. Oh, I am truly hopeless.

Char glanced about the shop and – to my utmost horror – his eyes handed on our table in the corner.

"My lady?" he said curiously, coming over. I could feel his eyes on me, or rather, the very top of my head that poked out from over the table. "Might I be of, er, assistance?"

I hit Gareth hard in the shins under the table with my balled fists and he sprung into action. "Your majesty! My lady, here, has just…has just-"

"Dropped something!" I piped in a voice much higher than my own. I was speaking to Char! I forgot the danger of the situation and for a lovely moment I was floating on air.

"Please, allow me to help you," said Char. He was much too good to be allowed, I decided. If only he could suspend his goodness for just a moment and refuse to assist me in my search for, well, nothing.

"No, no, Ch – your majesty," I finished lamely.

"Yes, please, that's not necessary," Gareth said, dropping to his knees at once and feigned searching, as well as successfully blocking my figure from Char's view.

We spent a long minute awkwardly scanning the ground, until Char made an impossible reach around Gareth and touched my arm lightly – a thousand butterflies erupted in my stomach – and said, "Is this is, my lady?"

Gareth must have turned around and examined it, because he said, "A lovely bead, your majesty. But, er, not what we're looking for."

"What is it that you are looking for then?" he said, and I could hear the playful smile on his face. I did not think myself capable of speech, so I waited for Gareth to take the cue.

"Please, your majesty, I beg you to let us continue the search on our own." Gareth said. I breathed a sigh of relief at his self-assured voice.

"Nonsense, I insist-"

"Char…mont," I said. I was such a fool! I mustn't confuse his name again or he would surely order me up. "Prince. Your highness, I don't-"

He was grinning again, I could tell. Gareth murmured something to him, and Char burst promptly into laughter. My heart swelled in my chest to hear it.

"Very well, then," he said when he had calmed. "I must, at least, inform you that there shall be a ball held, tomorrow night, in the Great Hall. I shall expect to meet you both properly there."

I held my breath until he was gone.

"You can get up now, you know," said Gareth.

I rose on unsteady legs and swallowed.

"A-a ball?" I said, my voice quavering something awful.

Gareth rolled his eyes. "And I had thought you different from other girls. But no, you are all the same, only living to pass the time from one ball to the next."

"But," I said, ignoring Gareth. "What shall I wear?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, and for sticking with me through my sparse updates. Much appreciated. :) 

There were a ton of questions in the last set of review, so I'm just going to pick three at random to answer this time around.

_I have to ask, though; was this based on the movie?_ – Sierra Falls

Nope. I've seen the movie, and loved it, but it's got nothing on the book (which I've read something like twenty times). So this is all based off the book, which you should definitely read if you haven't already.

_Technically, Ella can just get anyone to issue a command for a previous one to be reversed. Did you change that for the purpose of your story?_ – Atlantis Forester

Well, in the book (correct me if I'm wrong, which I very well could be) that particular loophole isn't used for the big things. I mean, there's the thing with eating cake at the beginning. I've always thought, couldn't someone just order Ella never to take heed of any order ever again? Or something along those lines. And then the curse would be as good as lifted. But stuff like that is never used. The whole "reversal of command" is also difficult without explaining the curse to anyone else, which she's been commanded not to do. But anyway, I have plans for the reversal thing to come into play later on.

_Will Areida ever come into the picture as a main character?_ – Scyco Sphinx

I never had plans for her to have a huge part, but there will definitely be some Areida before this story is over.

**Next Update:** Let's shoot for by the end of April? Unless enough things are thrown at me to get me writing.


	13. Shade Of A Shadow

**Disclaimer: **Don't sue me, Gail.

**A/N: **If anyone is still reading this after over a year of not posting I will be pleasantly shocked.

**Summary:** On the night of the third ball, everything went according to plan. She plans to forget Char and go on living with her curse in Dame Olga's house. But first loves always die hard.

* * *

Call It A Gift 

By Blackberry Ink

Chapter Twelve: Shade Of A Shadow

* * *

"What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." 

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

**Recap: **Where we last left our heroine, she was hiding under the table of a sweet shop in Bast with Gareth, shoemaker's apprentice extraordinaire. Things are just starting to get back onto even ground between Ella and Gareth after their kiss. Gareth confesses his love for her, and Ella decides he deserves the truth. She confides in him everything about Char (well, everything except the reason why she couldn't be with him: the curse). Char is in Bast -- but is he there on business or for Lela, Ella's alter ego? Char and Ella run into each other in the sweet shop, but Gareth covers for Ella before Char can get a good look at her. Char invites Gareth and Ella to the ball being held for him the following evening.

* * *

"I can't do this," I said again. I'd been saying it all afternoon, ever since Char had come into the sweet shop. 

"You don't have to, you know," Gareth reminded me for the hundredth time. "We never planned to stay in Bast forever, anyway. What better time to leave than now?"

I bit my lip and leaned my head back against the wall of the alleyway we rested in. "I can't do that to him. I think he's come here for me."

Gareth looked at me with a mixture of sadness and regret. "But Ella you said…" He mercifully left the rest of the sentence off, but I knew what the words left unsaid were. _You said he hated you_. And he did. He did hate me.

But he didn't hate Lela.

I took a breath and told Gareth the part of my story in which I'd invented Lela in order to be close to him once more. Gareth's eyes looked even sadder at this, the laugh lines around the edges of his face falling into something far less humorous.

He shook his head, and then I was surprised to see him smile ruefully. "I don't know who's worse when it comes to love: you or me."

I didn't know what to say. There was nothing _to_ say. So I remained silent and let the moment pass.

I hadn't meant to fall in love with Char, just as Gareth hadn't intended to fall in love with me. But love had a way of striking in the worst directions possible, it seemed. I was glad to have Gareth, certainly, but I still felt sick to my stomach when I caught him gazing at me when he thought I wouldn't notice or when his hand brushed mine as we fell into step together.

It would be so easy to fall in love with him. Sometimes I thought that if I concentrated enough, I could transfer my feelings for Char over to Gareth. It would make my life simple and sweet. I may never have the blinding love for Gareth that I carried for Char, but we would be happy and content together.

All I had to do was turn around and he'd be there. I wondered if he'd always wait for me. But no: it was selfish to think such things. A terrible part of me enjoyed Gareth being in love with me, relished in the thought of being the center of someone's heart. It was utterly horrid to allow such thoughts to float about in my foolish brain, so I shoved them away as often as I could.

Gareth would get over me, I told myself, and live a happy life with a girl far less complicated than I was. It was coldheartedly cruel to even consider pretending to love him in the way he did me. It was a betrayal of how much he meant to me.

I brushed hair out of my face as though ridding myself of the thoughts that had just transpired. Gareth was looking at me again and quickly turned his head when I came back to focus.

"So what do you propose we do?" he asked me.

I sighed heavily and looked at the brick wall in front of me. "I'd give anything to go to that ball," I said. The words escaped me before I registered that as what I wanted.

Gareth's words were pained in a way that only someone who knew him well would notice. I noticed. But his voice was resigned. "If you're sure," he said, "then wait here. I'll be back."

"You'll what?" I said, but my words were only half heard, because he stood up and began to move out of the alley before I finished them.

"I'll be back by nightfall," he assured me. "Don't leave here."

Not that I could have anyway.

* * *

Even though I did as the curse bid me, my head ached. I was tremendously tired from leaning haphazardly against the alley wall and being alone and didn't want to fall asleep until Gareth came back. 

It wasn't that I felt scared without him; I'd been on my own in a strange place many times before. It was more that I was scared _for_ him. Where had he gone that he couldn't take the time to at least tell me?

The sun was gone by the time I saw a dark shadow appearing across the alley entryway. The figure looked far too hulking to be Gareth, and I pressed myself against the wall, willing myself to disappear into it.

"Miss me?" said the figure.

"Gareth?" I asked, my voice smaller than my feet.

"Who else would it be?" he said, and I felt my shoulders release with relief. As he got closer, I saw in the dim moonlight that the reason he'd looked so large was because he was carrying something quite as big as he was. He took it off of his shoulder with ease too great for something so large.

"What's that?"

I could see his teeth shining in a grin. "Feel it and see."

I did so, and not only because the order compelled me. It felt like…fabric. Could it be -- ?

"Gareth!" I said sharply. "Where did you get this? Did you--?"

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean," he said, the happiness in his voice faltering only a little. "I just borrowed it."

"You _borrowed_ it?" I could feel myself growing slightly hysterical. This was a gown! And I'd pressed and primed enough of Hattie's gowns in my time to know that this was a _very_ nice one, just by the touch of it. The silk was irresistibly smooth.

"From my sister," Gareth confirmed. "Don't worry, she won't miss it."

With the inadvertent order not to worry, my misgivings evaporated, replaced by something like joy.

"Oh, _Gareth_," I said, giving way for my excitement, and I reached out and put my arms around his neck. He stiffened immediately, and I pulled back. "I'm sorry," I apologized, remembering.

"It's alright," he said, although his tone spoke differently. There was a moment of silence as we recalled what had happened between us. Gareth recovered first. "I got something for myself as well," he said, brandishing a fine formal outfit, fit for any knight. "Courtesy of Aderyn's husband, Evan. Of course, he doesn't quite know that it's being lent out. But I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

We both knew that he would mind, very much indeed, but somehow this seemed funny in spite of it all. I let a laugh escape and he did too.

"So we're going to the ball," I said, my smile not willing to leave my face just yet. "In stolen--"

"Borrowed," Gareth interjected.

"_Borrowed_ clothes," I corrected. "After having not bathed for weeks."

"Speak for yourself," he said. "I took a dip in the stream before we left for Bast."

I hadn't been clean for a month before me left Frell, and now I had all the dirt and dust of our journey on top of that. Typical, really, that this would be the condition in which I would see my beloved again.

But I was seeing him. I was seeing Char.

To think that, during the nights when I was Lela, I thought that I would never see him again. Since then, our paths had crossed what seemed like a hundred times. Yet it was never enough.

It would have to do. My jaw set, I ran my hands across the gown. A grin flitted across my face. What would Mandy say if she knew what I was about to do? The grin disappeared as I remembered the heartbreak I would have to endure once again.

It was worth it, though, to see him again. To be near him, maybe even speak to him. Then I remembered --

"Gareth, we can't--"

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said over me. He reached into the inside of his shirt and produced two only slightly-bent masks. "We can't very well go to a royal ball without our masks, can we? The people will gossip."

My smile didn't disappear all night. I'd wager I slept with it on.

* * *

The next day went by in a blur of anticipation. Gareth and I used the last of the KJs Aderyn had given him to buy ourselves a meal at a nearby inn and the afternoon was spent wandering the streets of Bast. The city seemed much kinder on such a day as this. 

"A rare thing, to 'ave a crown prince this far up as Bast," said the old barkeep at the inn. "The Queen was here once, many years ago…you two'd be far too young to remember it, course."

The rest of the town seemed to mirror the sentiments of the barkeep. Everyone had a little more bounce in their step and were much easier to smile.

We had nowhere to get ready for the ball, but I didn't mind dressing amongst some thick trees on the outskirts of the city. Gareth put on Evan's clothes and looked splendid in an instant, but I required a bit more of a wash and much more primping. It was extremely difficult to put a corset on oneself, I found.

When I emerged from the wood, Gareth was gripping a small carving knife he carried and was shaping the stray branch of a tree. I cleared my throat.

"It's about time, I was beginning to think that--"

He stopped talking, then, and blinked stupidly.

"I can't remember the last time I saw you at a loss for words," I said hesitantly. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"

His mouth opened noiselessly a few times before he said, "A good thing. Trust me."

* * *

The ball was taking place at the greatest manor in Bast, and despite the fact that it was smaller than the palace in Frell, I felt much more intimidated by it. The castle at Frell had been one I'd grown up with, comfortable and familiar, always in the background of every sight I saw as a child. Here in Bast, the manor loomed over us, black and sprawling, doors opening wide to admit a hundred people I had never seen or heard of before. 

Gareth and I were the only ones to arrive on foot. One meticulously dressed noble after another emerged from the dozens of carriages as they pulled up to the front of the manor. I was vaguely aware of the fact that we were garnering stares from each and every one of the arriving guests, but I didn't have the room in my mind to put any thought to it.

I was going to see Char.

Gareth guided my arm so that it linked with his, and the warmth of him was the only thing that stabilized me as I walked methodically through the manor doors.

A small part of me whispered that it was the almost-me -- Lela -- who was the reason Char was here. Hadn't he said he'd come to Bast whenever he could? To see me? I mean her? Because Lela wasn't me. Lela was someone Char could still love.

And so what, if Lela was the reason he came to Bast? It didn't matter, it wasn't as though she was anything to Char but a friend. But my heart was pounding roughly. I was only moments away from seeing Char, his smile, his eyes, his hands reaching for mine…

No. They wouldn't reach for mine. They'd reach for Lela's, if anything, and I couldn't guarantee even that.

I'd gone over and over the subtle differences in the way Lela acted: the lower voice, the fear of heights. There wasn't much, but if I didn't remember it, Char might suspect.

My mind and my heart were going crazy, running into each other inside of me and telling me different things and making me want to scream and shout and --

There he was.

I'd barely noticed us enter the grand ballroom, but we were there nonetheless. Gareth gripped my arm tightly as though afraid I might fall, which, in all honesty, was an excellent possibility.

Char stood off to the side, waiting on the end of a receiving line of guests -- mostly female, as it had been at the last ball. Their masks were already quickly coming off to reveal their ever-so charming faces as they fluttered their eyelashes in his direction. He looked as reposed as ever, his lips curving up slightly in a smile as he graciously kissed the hand of a bumbling woman who shamelessly courted his attention. As I studied him I felt my heart melt. The bend of his brow, the line of his jaw, the way his eyes flickered over the crowd with every chance he could spare them. It felt like an eternity since I'd last seen him, and yet it was only yesterday.

"How are you, Ella?" Gareth murmured in my ear. His breath on my skin would have brought me back to the present if it hadn't been for the fact that at that very moment, Char looked at me.

Our eyes locked and his smile turned genuine. He excused himself from the woman he had just introduced himself to and dashed through dancers, all agility and grace, until he reached me.

"Lady Lela?" he asked, smiling bright and breathing a little heavy. "It's you, isn't it?"

I pitched my voice lower as practiced. "It is, your highness."

Char's smile got, if possible, even wider. He reached out and took both of my hands in his, holding them as though he'd never let go. I found it hard for me to speak when I looked at him. It was too much to bear, having him look on me like this and not see that it was _me_, his Ella, and I wanted him more than anything.

I pulled my hands away to adjust my mask, trying to reject the nerves from my smile, and when I still couldn't find words, Gareth saved me.

"In case Lela never remembers to introduce me," he cut in, clearing his throat, "I'm Sir Gareth of Bast." He held out his hand for Char to shake, which Char graciously did, only taking his eyes off of me for a moment. Char looked at me, silently questioning my relationship with Gareth, I could tell. Did he think we were married? Was he jealous?

"Gareth is my oldest and dearest friend," I told Char when I recovered my voice, putting emphasis on the last word for Char's benefit.

"Ah," said Char, his eyes alight. "It's a pleasure to meet a friend of Lela's."

Gareth bowed his head a little. If I were in the condition to, I would have rolled my eyes at how much he was clearly enjoying his newfound title.

"Well, I must excuse myself," Gareth said, elegantly beginning to step away from me. "Lela has talked for ages of how she could not wait to see you again, Prince Charmont. I do not want to deny you both the privilege of catching up."

Char bowed, simultaneously wrapping my arm through his. I wondered if he could feel my heart beating with unruly speed. "Thank you, Sir Gareth," he said. "I'll try not to take her from you all evening."

Gareth shook his head. "Oh, please do, your highness. This night is for you. Lela knows she can see me any time."

Then, with the sadness in his eyes that only I could see, Gareth extracted himself from us and disappeared into the growing crowd of dancers.

My heart wrenched to see him so, but then Char tugged at my sleeve and directed us outside and away from the steady flow of people coming into the manor ballroom and I didn't have room in me to feel anything but swelling, overwhelming love for him.

"I've missed you," Char said earnestly as soon as we were out of earshot of the throng. "It's been so long."

"A year at least," I said, trying my best not to continue staring at him, which was all I wished to do.

"It feels like longer," he said, turning us leftwards and into a small indoor garden. "Please," he said, gesturing to a bench nearby, "sit down."

I sat as he commanded, checking that my shoddy mask was in tact as I did so.

"Well then, your highness," I said, proud that my voice was only slightly shaky. "What have you been doing all of these months?"

"I must insist that you call me Char," he said. The bench was small enough that our legs brushed against each other every time one of us moved.

The corner of my lips tilted upwards. "Char," I amended.

"Much better," he said. "Well, shortly after the ball in Frell I told my parents of my intentions never to marry."

"How did they take it?"

His mouth twisted at the memory of it. "Not well. My father, especially. He's been counting on me to continue the family line, you see."

"And what of your sister? Can that task not fall to her?"

"She is growing close to an Ayorthian prince," Char said, and I marveled at the way his eyes told me much more than his words did. Char wasn't pleased with the relationship his sister had struck up, but he could do nothing to stop it. He loved his parents but was tired of them burdening him with tasks he did not wish to complete. He loved his country but feared he wasn't doing right by Kyrria in choosing not to take a wife. I knew those eyes better than any other, even after all of this time.

I put a hand on his arm, wanting to do more than that to comfort him. He took his own hand and put it over mine, and we sat like that for a moment that I wished would go on forever. Then he let his hand drop and I was forced to drop mine, too.

"But what about you, Lela?" Char asked. "How has your year in Bast been?"

I took a few seconds to gather my thoughts before saying, "Very well, thank you. The only real problem has been with this new trend sweeping the city. You see, high heels are quickly becoming fashionable. I'm scared to death of how far up I am every time I put on my shoes."

Char laughed, clear and loud and making my hands tremble with fear of him finding out who I was and excitement that I still remembered how to make him laugh.

"Speaking of fashion," Char said after a bit, "what of those orange carriages you once told me about? I thought they were quite popular here, and still I have yet to see one."

Oh, dear, I'd forgotten about that. "Oh, well," I said, hoping upon hope that my voice was as light as I intended it to be. "The people of Bast are quite fickle. One day the carriages are orange and the next they are purple. Now, I'm afraid, our carriages have sobered up a bit."

Char was playfully serious. "I do hope it wasn't because of my arrival."

"I doubt it," I told him. "I think purple paint is just hard to come by at this time of year."

He laughed again, and I reveled in it. The way he tilted his head back and laughed unabashedly, not a care in the world, made me feel the rush of falling in love with him all over again.

"Why did you come to Bast?" I asked him, then, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

His laughter eased away and he looked at me in a way that made me certain he could see straight through my thin disguise and directly into my heart.

"At first it was business," he admitted. "There were some problems with ogres in the area. But when that was taken care of, I made my knights come through Bast anyway."

"Why?" I asked again. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to hear him say it.

"I wanted to see you," he said, shrugging with a bit of embarrassment but grinning too.

I smiled back and let his words wash over me. _I wanted to see you_. In that instant, I couldn't think of a moment better than this one. "I'm glad you came," I said.

"As am I," said Char. The music got louder inside, bringing us harshly back to the present. He winced as though injured.

"You should probably spend some time with the other guests," I said before he could say it. "There was quite a line of ladies waiting to introduce themselves. Some of the most beautiful in Bast." I tried not to make my voice sound too bitter, but I feared it did.

"I'll get away as soon as I can," Char soothed, hearing my tone. He grimaced a bit as he looked over the crowd. "Will you come walk with me inside?"

In a daze I stood up, but then my complaints started, reminding me that he'd earlier order me to sit down. I made to go back to the bench. "I'm a bit tired…" I said weakly, putting a hand to my head and wishing my curse away.

"Oh, come with me, Lela, it's too early for you to be tired," said Char genially, and that was more than enough to make me stand.

We walked back through the garden and towards the swell of the music. My entire body ached as I knew I'd have to part with him in a minute, even if the parting was only brief. As we walked, I turned my head to search for a place where I could sit and watch him as he mingled with the nobles and courtiers.

Then, with not so much as a tug, I felt the ribbon tying my mask back slip. I threw my hands up to catch the mask before it fell, but to no avail. The mask must have crashed to the floor, but I heard to clatter.

It happened slowly. Char turned to look at me just as I turned full around to shield my face from his sight. As I turned to run, there was already someone standing in front of me, blocking my path.

It was Gareth. And he was holding my mask.

* * *

**A/N: **Seriously, I love everyone who has reviewed this story. It's so nice to the feedback I get here and there, even after so long a posting drought. 

I am so, _so_ pathetic for taking so long to get this chapter up. According to my plan, this story has one more chapter (and an epilogue if I'm up for it!). I'm heading off to college in two weeks, and my goal is to have the rest of the story posted by then. Of course, we all know how my promises to update tend to work out…

Anyway, thanks so much for reading and reviewing. You guys are awesome. I am not worthy.


End file.
